Return to Westeros
by YoungestCullen8
Summary: Jessa returns to Westeros and is thrown into Moat Cailin with Ramsay. Having never witnessed cruelty to Highborn women, she is angered and appalled at the Bolton heir. She just wants to reach the last home she has left. But if Ramsay gets his way, she never will.
1. Chapter 1

Jessa Flowers knew the North had changed. She had heard rumors of its change in Meereen. The Mother of Dragons had told her of the many changes that had been taking place in Westeros. She had been raised in Meereen after her mother fled Westeros upon finding she was pregnant.

As far as Jessa knew, she was an only child. Her mother had told her she had fled during Robert's Rebellion. After that Jessa quit asking questions. She was content to live in Meereen until her mother was sold into slavery. She had been the house slave to the House of Dhazak. Jessa had been lucky to not be sold but she had lived in the House of Dhazak as a friend.

When Daenerys Stormborn, mother of dragons, had been seen outside the city, her mother had smuggled her out of the city and put her on a ship bound for Westeros. She had her dressed in her finest clothes and put her on a ship that would land in the North. She was to go to Highgarden and find her family, her father. But that hadn't gone well and the Unsullied had taken her to Daenerys. The woman had been gentle and kind and sent her on her way.

The sail had been semi-smooth. Jessa hadn't had any problems and the men had left her alone. That could have been due to the puppy she had adopted at the harbor. It had been about six months old and starving. She had taken it in when she had boarded the ship and fed it portions of her meals. When it had been content, it had lay beside her at night and slept, only rousing if someone came in her quarters unannounced. That had only happened one time and the guy had a huge portion of his rear-end ripped out.

The ship had docked stopped just out to sea from Oldcastle. The sailors were too scared to go down to Moat Cailin and Jessa didn't care as long as she got off the boat. So a man had rowed her to shore. They had barely made it to shore when someone had attacked them. Jessa was trained in hand to hand combat and swordsmanship, but she hadn't had a weapon. Luckily her pup had been ready to attack anyone for her. He had taken out a couple of men, ripping out their throats.

Someone had grabbed her from behind, yanking her hair harshly. The pup had been jumped by a bigger dog and laid out on the ground to her left. She hadn't fought when the men dragged her into the fortress. She hadn't said a word when they had tossed her into a room. She had tied her hair out of her face because she knew she was going to be paraded in front of the lord of these halls.

She hadn't been disappointed. Now she stood in the receiving hall. No one had hurt her, not too much anyone. She had a few bruises on her shoulders and arms from where the men had roughly handled her, but she hadn't fought so they hadn't hurt her.

She waited patiently, hands folded in front of her. Her long curly hair had been finger brushed and tied back away from her face so she could see who her captors were. No one knew she was a bastard of Highgarden. If she told, it would only make her a hostage for money. Or worse.

The double doors opened to her left. She kept her head centered on the seat in front of her. Whoever it was would have to sit in front of her. She didn't fidget, standing perfectly still like she had been taught. Her head held high, she watched as an older man with graying hair and his son stepped in front of her. The older man sat down in the chair. His son looked at her and something changed in his gaze.

"My son's men say they found you sneaking into the North by the Weeping Water. Do you know whose land this is now?" he asked.

"No, my lord, I do not. I was not raised in Westeros. I know who all the old lords and ladies were, but with the war for the Iron Throne, I have lost who is in control," she answered.

"Who are you, child?"

"My name is Jessa. I was raised in Meereen in the House of Dhazak. When the Great Masters were overthrown, I worked in the Queen's court for a brief time. My mother is still there."

"What was your mother's name?"

"Lyssa Rivers. She was born on the Trident and sold as a slave to the North. As for that, I do not know who was her master. She never told me."

"Your mother was a bastard," the son said with too much glee. Jessa flicked her eyes at him then looked back at his father. "Who was your mother's father?"

She shook her head. "I do not know. She never spoke of herself. The last I heard she was in Highgarden before King Robert's Rebellion. She fled then. I was born in Meereen later that year." She looked at the older man. "Sir, might I ask whom I am speaking. Like I said, the last person I knew to rule the North was Lord Eddard Stark. My mother spoke highly of him."

The man smiled kindly and nodded. "You have missed much, young lady. Lord Ned Stark was beheaded by King Joffrey, son of the late King Robert Baratheon. His son Robb and Renly Baratheon started a war against the Iron Throne, intent on taking it for themselves. Renly was killed in his camp. I killed Robb Stark at River Run, home of his grandfather. King Tommen granted me warden of the North."

"Who are you, sir?"

"I am Roose Bolton. This is my son Ramsay Bolton. I should be with my men but Ramsay sent word of a ship coming. I rode as fast as I could."

Jessa knew the Boltons only in name and by the horrible things they did to their captives. Their banner was hoisted high on the wall above the throne. A flayed man. It should have sent shudders through her, but she had seen the worst of the Masters in Meereen. Nothing could shock her.

"I told you I could handle her, Father. There was no need for you to come," Ramsay said.

"Jessa, is there anything I can do for you? Since you were not born in Westeros, I would like to consider you my guest. How may I be of service?"

"I would like safe passage to Highgarden."

"That is a long journey, one that I cannot spare men or horse for at the moment. If you would like, I can give you chambers and a place at our table until I can afford such a trip."

A slow smile came across Ramsay's face and Jessa didn't like the look. She stared at Ramsay for a moment and noticed the coldness in his eyes. Making a mental note to stay away from him, she looked back at his father.

"I ask one favor. Connor stays with me," she said.

"Connor?"

"My dog, the one your men collared and drug to the kennels to be a bait dog for yours. I want him brought to my chambers where he will stay."

"Bring the lady's dog to her chambers. Make sure he is fed and watered. Do not poison the dog." Roose stood from his chair and extended his hand to her. "I will show you to your chamber then I must go back to the barracks. My son will show you around after that."

Jessa couldn't argue but she wasn't happy with being left alone with Ramsay. Something about him set her teeth on edge. It was like he was looking at her but not seeing her. It was very unsettling.

Roose talked the entire way, mostly about how he had sacked the North and snatched the land out from under the Starks then the Greyjoys. He mentioned that Rickon and Bran Stark were still alive somewhere but they would be dead within a fortnight. Jessa made mental notes of the turns and hallways they took to get to her chambers in case she needed a quick getaway.

Roose opened the door to her chambers and something black snarled on the other side.

"Connor!" she cried happily as the black bundle leapt at her.

The dog licked her face as his butt and tail wagged happily. Laughing, she fell backwards and let the dog walk all over her. It took him a minute to look up and see the Boltons. Then he lost his mind. He hunched down low and started growling deep in his throat. Jessa sat up and wrapped her arms around his throat.

"Shhh, baby. They're not going to hurt us," she whispered. She pressed her face behind his jaw. "Time to be quiet now." When he was quiet, she stood but kept a hand on his head. "He was abused at the shipyard. People starved and kicked him until I took him in. Do not hurt my dog."

"I will send someone up to help you clean up and dress for dinner. Excuse us." Roose snatched his son's shoulder and whipped him around.

Jessa shut the door on them and looked about the room. It was modest with warm bedding. Furs covered it but they were messed up. Connor had already made himself at home.

The door to the room opened and a young man came in. He looked up then panicked. Unsure what to do, she held up her hands and started to shush the poor man.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know your name," she said.

"Reek, my lady. My name is Reek," he stammered.

"I'm Jessa. Nice to meet you. Who sent you here?"

"Master Ramsay."

"Come sit with me, Reek. I don't know much about Westeros. What can you tell me?"

He didn't tell her much because he was too scared. He did show her to some of the clothes that had been left in the wardrobe. They looked to be her size so Jessa didn't argue much. They were heavy clothes made of wool because it was considerably colder in the North than it had been in Meereen. Her halter dress was not going to keep her warm.

Reek had just been coming out of his shell; smiling, answering questions and asking them; when his name was yelled down the hall. She watched him cower in the corner when there was a knock on her door. Careful to keep him guarded from view, Jessa opened the door to find Ramsay on the other side.

"Have you seen my servant? He was supposed to come right back after coming in here," he said. His eyes were cold and calculating as he tried to look over her shoulder.

Connor poked his head around her leg and growled. Ramsay took a step back, much to Jessa's amusement. Nothing really frightened this man but her dog did. Patting the stocky animal on the head, she smiled.

"He was in here but I sent him away to get me something to eat and drink. I haven't eaten since last night. Is that too much to ask?" She batted her eyes at him.

Ramsay seemed to be taken aback because he stuttered for the next few words he said. He wasn't used to someone outplaying him it seemed. Jessa had plenty of experience because she used to barter for fine silks down at the market. It was how she got the fine dresses she had packed to take to Highgarden.

He finally found his words. "That is fine, but Reek is my servant. Ask me before you send him on errands."

"I thought it was customary for the guests to always be right."

Ramsay grabbed her by the arm and hauled her against him. She had never been treated like that before. Every man who had ever met her in Meereen had treated her with respect and dignity. They had never laid a hand on her.

"This is my house and you will do as I command," he hissed in her face. His eyes traveled down, taking her in. "We will see each other later."

Connor followed him into the hallway and waited until he disappeared. Then he snuffled and scratched his feet as if saying good riddance. Jessa laughed as she ushered him into the room. Reek was standing there, a sad look on his face.

"Thank you but do not attract the master's ire. He will retaliate," he said before he walked out the open door.

Jessa watched him pull the door behind him. She looked at Connor but he just jumped up on the bed. He wasn't very much help.


	2. Chapter 2

Jessa folded her arms across her chest as she eyed the (ugly) dress that had been picked out for her to wear to dinner. Thick and annoying, it was bound to be heavy. She was stocky because she had trained with the sword masters in Essos, but she wasn't big enough to wear that. Plus she wasn't used to it. Yes, it was colder in the North of Westeros but she refused to dress the part. She was of Meereen and would dress as such.

Her bath had been wonderful. After a month on the sea, she had smelled of salt and wood. Bathing wasn't a main priority on a ship so she didn't mind as much. But coming into a clean room in a crumbling fortress was saying something. She couldn't complain too much. They hadn't hurt her.

Irritated for no reason, she donned the silvery blue dress her mother had made weeks before she left Meereen. Going around her neck, it was held together with an intricate pin. Her friend had woven a belt made of the finest silk for this dress. She tied it around her waist and fixed it to wear it pulled the hem of the skirt off the floor about two inches. To finish the look, she braided her hair and pulled it away from her face.

She was coming out of her room when a servant came to her door. Bowing slightly he turned on his heel and headed back the way he had come. Connor padded beside her, brushing up against her legs as she walked. She dropped her hand to his head and gently pushed him a few inches away but kept contact.

She walked into the dining hall and garnered the attention of the men and women gathered. She was the last to arrive and the guest of honor it seemed. Everyone watched as Roose left his spot by the fire and made his way to her. He smiled at her then looked at her dress.

"It is cold in the north. You should dress accordingly," he scolded lightly.

Jessa held her head high. "They are ugly and heavy. I refuse to wear it. If I am to freeze to death, I will do so in my own clothing."

He nodded. "Come sit by me. I have things I wish to discuss with you."

Not liking the sound of it, she took his arm. He led her to the left side of the table where he pulled the chair out for her. She took it and waited for him to push it in. She stared at Ramsay as he sat across from her. He looked a little too excited. Turning her attention to Roose, she waited for him to sit down.

"I sent word to Highgarden about you. If anyone will know anything, it is them," he said as the first course was served.

"I hope it didn't cause too much trouble. I have no idea who my father is nor who my mother was employed by. I just know the names Highgarden and Tyrell. That's it," she replied.

Roose nodded. "Even if you did know, there is no guarantee they will answer immediately. Their favorite daughter is marrying King Tommen in a fortnight. They are preoccupied. As for us, we return farther north on the morrow. We will be riding for Winterfell."

She frowned. "Why didn't you just take us there when I arrived?"

"You needed rest. Traveling after coming off a ship is not good for the constitution. Growing up in the city never did teach you anything."

Insulted, she turned on him. "Lord Bolton, I know the common tongue plus four other languages including Dothraki. I can learn a sixth language like this," she snapped her fingers, "so do not insult me. I am an educated woman."

She curbed the urge to get up and storm back to her room. In reality she was hungry. Sitting straighter, she dove into her soup as Roose and Ramsay started talking about the Tyrells and Baratheons. She tuned it out and ate in silence.

When dinner was over, Roose escorted her to what remained of the library. He talked incessantly about his sack of the north and conquering the Starks. She had already heard this story but she humored him anyway. They passed the time talking about the books that still lined the walls. Roose was pleasantly surprised that she had been telling the truth. She was very educated. She could even read some of the languages that he could not.

Jessa didn't realize how much time had passed until she yawned. Roose smiled at her then had one of the servants lead her back to her room. She was happy. Connor was outside running the grounds and getting lost in the swamp. He would have to be wrangled when they left for Winterfell, but until then he could run.

She entered her room and didn't really mind that it was dark. After untying the belt around her waist, she unlatched the pin that held her halter in place. The entire dress fell to the floor. She kicked aside and left it as she climbed in bed. She was almost asleep when he hand landed on her mouth.

"Fight and it will be that much worse for you." She recognized Ramsay's voice. He swung up on the bed, straddling her. He looked her in the face. "Who are you? No woman has ever talked to my father that way. It takes a special kind."

"Get off me, Ramsay," she said through his hand.

His eyes took on that crazed look she had seen him with the moment she met him. "I have never seen a woman with more fire. There was Catelyn Stark but she's dead now." He pressed his nose to her hair. "I wonder. Have you ever done anything?"

"No. You have already insulted me once tonight. Do not do it again."

Ramsay pressed harder on her. He ran a finger down her face and she bit him. Ramsay cursed before he slapped her hard across the face. Shrieking, she caught him in the stomach, catching him off guard. Taking the advantage she rolled and pulled his flaying knife from his belt. His eyes widened in a mixture of arousal and surprise as he stared at the small knife.

"I have never been thusly treated. You would do well to remember that I am a guest in your home, not some common whore. If you want one of them, go find Myranda and leave me be," she warned.

It would have gone over well if she hadn't been almost completely naked. She hadn't really thought about putting night clothes on because she thought she would be alone in her room so she had simply climbed into bed. Now as Ramsay's hand moved across her breast she thought better of her idea.

He sat up suddenly, causing the knife to bite into his skin. She stared at him, bound and determined to make sure he knew she wasn't backing down. He wasn't either because he leaned forward. The knife slipped a little deeper into his chest. That bothered her. He didn't have any respect for himself. He continued to lean forward until she jerked the blade away from him. He smiled as it clattered to the floor.

"I knew you couldn't do it." He lunged forward.

Jessa didn't fight him. He had already shown he was sadistic and masochistic enough to stab himself. There was no telling what he'd do to her if she kept fighting. She flinched as he ran his hands all over her skin. It was an alien touch. Her mother had raised her not to give herself to anyone but her husband. Though she knew her mother loved her, she also knew her mother thought she had made a mistake of having a child out of wedlock. She thought Jessa would pay the price for it.

Ramsay was rough as he tugged the rest of her small clothes off. He was going to leave bruises. It was true when he wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed.

"Don't ever hide my servant from me ever again," he rasped. He watched her choke for a moment before leaning down to bite her chin hard. It bled so much he knew it was going to scar.

Jessa felt tears sting her eyes but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. She wouldn't cry or scream. She closed her eyes as his belt came off. He grabbed her hands and secured them above her head. He didn't want her hitting him anymore. He was about to teach her what he did to women who touched him.

Biting harshly as he went down, Ramsay was ready. He freed himself and delivered one final bite to her inner thigh. He lined himself up and shoved through. Where his hand was pressed against her ribcage, he felt her inhale and hold it. Wanting to see how far she would go to keep quiet, he wiggled around roughly. She held his gaze but nothing in her face told him how much pain she was in. keeping her gaze, he leaned down and sank his teeth into her stomach. She shuttered but didn't make a sound.

Aggravated, he flipped her over so he couldn't see her hiding her emotions. He bit her again and again and again. Then he rammed his fist into her ribs. Still she made no noise. Angry, he thrust so hard he knew he was hurting her. Yet she refused to make any noise. Looking around he spotted something that he could use to his advantage.

Jessa met his eyes again as he flipped her over and untied her hands. Ramsay tied her right wrist with her right ankle. As he was about to do the same with her left, she saw what he was going to use. Her silk belt. He was going to bind her with her silk belt her friend had made her. Closing her eyes again, she felt the material slide over her skin.

Ramsay slammed his hips forward again and stopped. Still no noise. He was so angry he set a grueling pace. He felt it coming and did nothing to stop it. He didn't care if something happened. He hooked his arms under her bound limbs and forced her to sit up. He bit her neck so hard her felt her blood pour into his mouth. He drug his fingernails down her back as he came. She arched her back at the pain. All that succeeded in doing was drawing him in deeper.

Breathing heavy and holding her up, Ramsay untied her limbs and tossed the bindings to the floor. She leaned against him, completely limp, as he moved around. Wiggling, he shifted then laid her on her back. He rolled from the bed and looked down at her. She hadn't made a sound and hadn't turned away from him. Her skin was red with his bites, punches, and scratches. Her chin was bleeding. But he knew he hadn't broken her.

"I'll send Reek to you in the morning to clean you up before we leave. You'll ride with me to Winterfell," he said as he dressed. She didn't say anything to him, didn't even move. "See you in the morning."

Jessa waited until the door had closed before she curled in on herself. She had never thought about what would happen if some man just simply wanted her. She didn't realize it would hurt this much. No one ever told her that men were low scum who took what they wanted. From now on she was going to wear small clothes to bed.

Rolling over she kicked the blankets off her body and got up. She wasn't going to sleep in that bed at all. Not now, not after what had just happened. She didn't know where she was going to sleep but it wasn't going to be in this room.

Tossing on a robe, she grabbed candle and headed out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where is she?!" Ramsay yelled as he stormed through Jessa's room.

Reek cowered in the corner where he had been busy making a warm bath for Jessa. He had come in and thought she was downstairs for breakfast. The bed had been messed up so he hadn't thought anything of it.

"Where is she, Reek?" his master demanded again.

"I don't know. She wasn't here when I came to make the bath," he said as he slipped to the floor.

Bellowing in rage, Ramsay hurled his goblet at the door as it opened. Jessa looked around the wooden structure at the pieces of gold. She looked up at Ramsay to see him fuming. After last night, she should be afraid of him but wasn't. She stared at him with an unblinking stare.

Annoyed, he stalked across the room and grabbed Jessa by the arm. He jerked her towards the tub then ripped her gown. He picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously in the tub. Jessa didn't flinch as he poured water on her head and started to roughly scrub her skin with the rag.

She lifted her eyes and stared at Reek. He was staring wide eyed at her as if he couldn't believe the cruelty his master was inflicting on her. His eyes skimmed her skin. He was taking in every bruise and laceration she had.

"Send Reek away," she said suddenly.

Ramsay stopped what he was doing and looked at his servant. The man looked completely shocked. He didn't want to make it easy on either of them so he leaned forward and bit Jessa's neck again. He felt her jolt but once again she didn't make a sound. Reek's eyes were wide as he stared. He knew there was blood on his mouth when he pulled away.

"Go, Reek," he ordered.

Jessa sighed as the already tortured man scurried past them. She could take what this man dished out. She wasn't sure what would completely destroy the retreating one but she wasn't going to push it.

"Stand up," Ramsay commanded. She did as he said. He roughly turned her around to face him. He ran his hand up her side, lingering along the bruise his fist had left. "You have beautiful skin. Too bad it's marred."

He sucked her shoulder into his mouth as he jerked her to him. He hauled her up but she pushed her weight backward. To compensate, he had to move with her. When all was said and done, he was on his back with her straddling his waist.

"You did this last night," he said. "You do remember what happened don't you?"

Hair sopping wet, she braced her hands on the side of his head and leaned down. "Do whatever you want to me, but do not hit me anymore. Then next time you lay your hands on me, I will drive your flaying blade through you heart."

Ramsay wrapped her hair around his fingers and pulled her down to kiss her. He turned his head away seconds later and sank his teeth into her collarbone. Jessa scrabbled for a hold, finally gripping his shirt. Her skin was raw from the scrubbing and the abuse the night before, and the way his shirt rubbed against it was uncomfortable. But all of that discomfort was dulled when his fingers roughly touched her.

Ramsay's eyes glowed with delight as he used his fingers for some other sort of abuse. He started off gently rubbing her insides until she squirmed. He knew he wasn't going to lay a hand on her for sport but she didn't say a thing about in her. He rammed his fingers up harder until she cried out. The sound was music to his ears. After spending hours wondering why she didn't make a sound the night before, he had finally elicited a response. Now he was going to take it.

Unlike Reek, Jessa wasn't a captive. She was a lost girl in his father's house. She had all the rights they had because she was a guest. Ramsay technically had no claims to her, and his father could strip everything from him if he found out what his son was doing.

Ramsay roughly thrust his fingers in her, delighting in the grunt of discomfort. She gripped his shirt tightly as he forced her to sit up through it all. He wanted to watch the pain ripple across her face. He grabbed her face with his free hand.

"Show me how much pain you're in," he ordered. "Let me hear it."

She scrunched up her nose. "I don't know how."

That stopped everything. He stared at her. "You've never done anything before last night." A sick smile twisted his lips. "Oh the fun we're going to have until you go to Highgarden."

Jessa huffed in surprise when he swept her up and laid her on her back. This time he didn't tie her up or turn her away from him. He wasn't gentle though. He kept up with his roughness and his eyes still glowed with twisted mirth. He made a show of unbuckling his belt and freeing his dick. He grabbed her hand and made her touch it.

"Hard isn't it?" he asked. He grabbed her wrist and tossed it over her head, squeezing painfully. "This is going to be inside you," he surged forward, "right now."

She could have done without the play-by-play. As it was she was in enough pain to last a lifetime. And he kept dishing out more. At least he wasn't hitting her anymore, but the new pain was almost unbearable. She could feel him moving inside her at a very rough pace. And she wasn't sure if she was imagining it or not, but she was certain he was getting bigger every time.

"My usual bed warmer is very jealous because she knew that I had been with a new one. If we are not careful, she will ask for a hunt. I am obliged to give it to her because she wants it. You don't want to be hunted do you?" he asked in time with his movements.

Jessa pulled herself up to look him in the eyes. "You wouldn't be able to catch me if you hunted me."

Turned on by the prospect of her denial, Ramsay planted one hand behind her and wrapped the other around her. It gave him leverage and shoved him so deep inside her it hurt her just to sit up. He refused to let her go, even going so far as pull her hips down on him as he moved up.

His undoing was when she bit him. He held her so tight she couldn't lay back. So she leaned forward. He heard slight noises escaping her and it fed his desire to hear her scream in agony/pleasure. She had enough space to wiggle around and lean forward. His movements were so rough he was hurting himself but he was determined to hear her.

He was about to kill himself when she bit him behind his ear to keep from making a noise. The pain and pleasure ripped through him with such intensity he moved quickly as to get more friction. His body reacted before his mind came to peace with it. His hips were stuttering with his release as his lungs begged for air.

Then he started laughing. He loosened his hold on Jessa and she leaned back, but he remained inside her half hard. He placed his hand on his ear and pulled it away. There was no blood but it stung like a bitch.

"You bit me," he said. He was kind of surprised. Jessa leaned away. "That was a brave thing, but I'm going to have to punish you."

"Ramsay!" They heard his father calling his name.

A slow smile crossed his face. "But it seems I will have to wait until another time. Shall I help you clean up?" He looked bummed when she shook her head. "As you wish. I will send someone in to help you dress. Everything is already packed so we will load it up."

Jessa closed her eyes as he slipped free. She heard him fixing his clothes before he left her. Getting up, she went to the tub and cleaned herself up. She had no idea why she had goaded him, or bit him for that matter, but she was sure she wasn't going to see the end of Ramsay Bolton.

Not too long after he had left then her door opened once again. She was already halfway dressed when someone grabbed the ties to her corset. Whoever it was tugged so tightly that she could barely breathe. When she was given a chance to turn around, she saw Myranda over by the wardrobe with her overcoat. Warily she watched the other woman.

Myranda came over and helped her with the coat. It covered her arms, something she wasn't used to. Most of her dresses were halter dresses or had sleeves that barely covered her shoulders. Her arms were bare generally. She hated being constrained.

"Lord Ramsay says he's been with you," Myranda said as Jessa fastened the coat. "He says that you refuse to make any noise when he has you." Jessa remained silent. "Are you his whore?"

Jessa whirled around, reveling in the fact that the full skirt moved with her. "I am no one's whore."

"Lucky for you, I am one of Lord Ramsay's favorites. I can teach you a thing or two on how to please him."

"I don't want to know how to please him. I want him to leave me alone."

"Well that's not going to happen. When Lord Ramsay sees something he wants, there is nothing he won't do to claim it. Have you seen his servant? Reek? That man was once Theon Greyjoy, last son of Balon Greyjoy. Lord Ramsay did everything he could to break that man, even gelding him."

Jessa was appalled when the woman laughed. She knew Ramsay was sadistic and twisted but to geld a man? She didn't know he'd go that far.

Instead of answering her bait, she walked out the door and followed the stairs down the main floor. She walked out the main entrance to see the host waiting for Roose and Ramsay. One of Ramsay's men walked over to her and bowed slightly. He extended his hand. She took it and he led her to a black horse. After he had helped her into the saddle, she took the reins and waited.

Roose and Ramsay walked out together. Roose walked over to her and squinted up.

"Are you ready for a long ride? It's two days to Winterfell," he said.

"I will be fine. If I can stand two months on a ship, I can stand a two days ride," she replied.

He nodded and walked over to his horse. The saddle moved towards the left and Jessa had to hold on for dear life. Ramsay pulled himself up behind her. Smiling he bit her ear as he wrapped his arms around her and took the reins. He pulled her back against him and stirred the horse into motion.

She thought the trip was going to be simple. A two day ride to Winterfell meant camping one night along the way. She figured that Roose would make sure she had a tent all to herself. But the way Ramsay was touching her told her she wasn't going to be sleeping any tonight. She tried to keep from squirming too much, but she remembered what had happened only an hour ago.

Ramsay remembered too because he leaned forward. "How would like to be fucked on a horse?"

She grabbed his hand and drugs her nails across the back of his hand. "Leave me alone for a little bit."

Letting out a laugh that promised retribution, Ramsay leaned back. He held the reins loosely as he navigated the horse on their path. Looking over at Theon turned Reek, Jessa wondered how long it would be before she was turned into him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Stop!"

Ramsay stared at Jessa as Myranda and Violet held down. They had stopped along the Kings Road to camp after fording the White Knife. Jessa had ridden peacefully for most of the journey, only jumping down when she was stiff. She had walked between Ramsay and Roose, making small talk with Roose as they traveled.

She was deeply intelligent, talking about kingdoms across the Narrow Sea. Roose had asked her about the languages she knew and she responded by speaking Dothraki. When she had translated, she had said that she was glad to find her parentage and that she missed her mother. She had also said something in her native Meereen tongue.

They had talked about history. Roose had thought she didn't know anything about Westeros since she had grown up in Essos, but she had surprised him with knowledge. They had talked of Robert's Rebellion and dragons. Roose had been very interested in the Khalessi's dragons. Jessa had wisely told him only the basics; that their names were Viserion, Rhaegal, and Drogon and that she had been close to them for a brief time. After that she had shut up.

They had decided to stop for the night when the sun was between its highest point and the horizon. The servants, including Reek, had set up camp and started fires. Roose had asked Jessa to accompany him on a walk with his wife, Walda. Not one to be too rude, Jessa had done as he asked. She was still a guest so she had to do it.

Reek had set up both Jessa's and Ramsay's tents, side by side of course. He had made the bedrolls perfect and started a fire in the center of each tent. It had been colder that day so he had made sure extra blankets were piled on top of the already existing on the bed. Ramsay had given him praise for doing a good job.

Everyone had gathered around the main campfire for a light dinner before calling it an early evening. Jessa had gone into her tent to spend a few precious minutes alone. Ramsay had been talking nonsense in her ear when she had ridden with him. Her only alleviation had been talking to his father about her homeland. She hadn't mind talking about it because it meant she was faithful to her people.

She had been confident that nothing was going to happen when all of the camp became quiet. She had almost been asleep when the flaps to her tent flew backwards. Myranda and two other women came in followed by Ramsay. Sighing, she braced herself as the women sacked her and started tugging at her clothes.

Ramsay had watched his bed warmers yank at Jessa's clothes. She had stared at him angrily but didn't say anything. He had dropped a huge piece of metal into the fire that had been slowly dying.

Now he stared at the naked women. Somewhere during all of it, Myranda and Violet had stripped naked as well. The last woman, Amanda, was holding the piece of iron. He had promised them a wild night if they had done what he asked. Obviously they were getting ready for it. He could get the women to do whatever he wanted for sex.

When Jessa first realized what he planned to do to her, she fought and fought hard. She flailed around, knocking over her water bowl. Ramsay watched, fascinated that this woman was as strong as she claimed. Myranda and Violet had a hard time holding her down. But the women weren't deterred. They grabbed her and held on tight.

As Amanda approached Jessa with the rod, the other woman went limp. Amanda pressed the rod against her stomach. It was long enough that the burning metal made an impression in her skin, but Jessa was smart.

She grabbed Amanda by her wrist and snatched the brand from her hand. She caught her across the face with it, burning the other woman's eye. Using that momentum, she swung out of Violet's grasp and whirled on Myranda. Ramsay's favorite bed warmer held up her hands and looked at her master.

Ramsay strode forward and grabbed Jessa's hands. The iron rod fell from them as he squeezed. Myranda strode forward and struck the captive woman across the face. Ramsay pulled her around away from the irate woman.

"I told you not to strike her," he scolded lightly. "Father does not want her harmed in case the Tyrells want to see her. We must do what Father says."

"I told you not to lay a hand me," Jessa said as she pulled away from Ramsay. She grabbed a fur and wrapped it around her body. Her stomach burned.

"I didn't lay a hand on you. Myranda did." Ramsay smiled when she scowled at him. "I have no intention of letting you go to Highgarden. If I ask, Father will keep you here as a ward." His smile widened at his next words. "That means I can do whatever I want."

Jessa stared at him. "I have no intention of letting you break me, Ramsay Bolton."

Myranda laughed. "You will get to the point where you will beg for Master Ramsay's touch. We all have." She stroked a hand down Ramsay's bare shoulder. "Can I hunt her? I hate the way she looks at me."

"I'm pretty sure she would make it out of the woods before you shot her, my dear." Ramsay looked at Jessa's stony face. "Maybe I should give her to the men." Her face didn't change. She stared at him, annoying him. "Myranda, leave us."

"But I thought…"

"GO!" She made a noise but she was gone. Ramsay looked at Jessa. "Why do you defy me?"

"I am not your slave," Jessa said. She refused to move because he was standing too close.

"True but you are my new plaything. I may not break you but I will use you." He turned towards the entrance. "Oh, and I change my mind about the not laying a hand on you. I will do whatever I please."

Jessa waited until she heard Myranda moaning in the next tent before she went to her box. She had packed a pair of trousers and a loose shoulder bearing blouse. She had a fur-lined cloak she could wear to keep her arms warm. She knew her mother had packed a pair of leather boots and she would wear them.

After putting a bandage on her stomach, she dressed as quickly as she could. Then she climbed in bed and tried to sleep.

But it never came. By the time the sun had crested the eastern horizon, she was already by the campfire with the watch. Reek came out of Ramsay's tent with an empty plate. He saw her and smiled like he was glad nothing had happened.

Roose had to call to his errant son just before they were to leave. Ramsay strode from his tent with his shirt in hand. He frowned when he saw Jessa standing with one of his father's men. She was already dressed with her cloak pulled around her. He pulled his shirt over his head then accepted the leather vest from Reek. Lacing it up to give his hands something to do, he walked over to her.

He almost let a curse fly when he noticed she was in trousers and boots. He schooled his face and contained his anger. She turned on him before he even touched her. That's when he knew the reason why his father had called to him in the manner he had. Jessa had a nice black eye. Myranda was going to be whipped.

"Jessa will ride on her own horse until we reach Winterfell," Roose said. "Tame your women, son, or I will."

When he walked away, Ramsay grabbed Jessa's arm. "Did you tell him it was Myranda?"

She snatched her arm back. "No. I didn't have to say anything. The guards knew who it was without having to ask. They heard me screaming last night but didn't say anything. Apparently they think I'm your whore."

"They will think you are much more than that when they hear you screaming throughout the halls of Winterfell."

"You presume too much."

Jessa gently pulled her arm away from him as one of the servants brought a horse to her. She grabbed the reins and swung up onto its back without any help from any of the men. The horse did a little spin as she pulled the reins to the left.

Roose signaled that it was time to move out. Ramsay jumped onto Blood and followed his father and Jessa. He didn't like that Myranda had left a mark on Jessa's face. He had never planned to leave a mark on her face. Her body was a different story. The only people who would ever see her naked were the maids his father sent to tend her and him. She could cover the marks he left with clothes, if she ever wore them.

Annoyed he rode in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

Jessa sat in the Wolfswood and stared at the scenery. They had been at Winterfell for the last couple of weeks and she was no closer to getting to Highgarden. There had been no word from the Tyrells. She asked every day to see if there was a raven or a messenger and the answer was always no. She wasn't even sure they were sending out her letters.

Since she had been in the custody of the Boltons, she had tried to stay out of the way. Roose was busy running the North and making certain the ironborn stayed away from Winterfell. They were coming after Theon turned Reek and they didn't care what Roose said. Also they were looking for Bran and Rickon Stark as well as Jon Snow, Eddard Stark's bastard. Once all of them were out of the way, there was no one to war with Roose for the North.

After they had arrived at Winterfell, Roose had had Myranda publicly whipped for bruising Jessa's face. He had claimed that no person, man or woman, would lay their hands on their guest as long as he was around. He had no clue that his son had done more damage than his bedwarmer.

Jessa had taken to running to the Wolfswood as soon as breakfast was over. Ramsay had left her alone for the last couple of days because he was too busy discussing things with his father to chase after her. They talked right after breakfast and well into the night so there hadn't been any time for him to come after her. Myranda was still locked in her chambers so there was no retaliation from her end. Even so, the wood had been and was the safest place to be. So every day after breakfast, she would pack a lunch, and she and Connor would head out into the woods.

The place was the calmest place she had been in since she had arrived in Westeros. The only disturbance she had ever had had been the wind through the trees, but that was manageable compared to everything else. Life had become such a chore that she wasn't sure she wanted to deal with it anymore. She was starting to second guess ever coming in search for her father. Yes, she was curious, but the abuse she was getting at the hands of Ramsay Bolton wasn't worth it.

Being alone out in the Wolfswood allowed her to reconnect with nature. Back in Meereen there hadn't been many places like this. She remembered the courtyard where she and her friend Narissa would play for hours when they were children. Narissa had taken up embroidery when they had hit puberty while Jessa had wanted to learn hunting skills, but they had always met back in that courtyard to talk. There was one specific tree they had always sat under. It had become their tree and no one else had sat under it.

Thinking back on home, Jessa realized how much she missed her mother. Lyssa hadn't been the perfect mom but she had done the best she could with the resources she had had. It was why she allowed herself to work for House Dhazak in exchange for Jessa's upbringing. She had wanted her daughter to have the best in life, and that was being a Highborn in Meereen. It was how Jessa had learned to read, write, and speak so many different languages. But none of that meant anything now. She was essentially a captive to Ramsay Bolton.

She heard Connor barking maniacally not too far away and smiled. He was chasing some sort of creature and would be busy for a long while. He wasn't like Ramsay's hounds. He was kind until someone messed with her. Then he turned vicious and tried to rip people's faces off. She was his weakness, just like he was hers. She would do anything for that creature.

She was packing up her basket when she heard a twig snap. She stopped and waited. If she found out who was coming, she might have a decent chance of fighting them off. Not that she was sure that her fighting skills were anywhere near those of Bolton's men. If they were the ones after her, she was doomed.

Common sense hit and she dropped the basket. Connor would hear the bushes rustling and come running. An arrow thunked into the tree right by her head. One thing ran through her mind.

This was a hunt and she was the target.

Standing still for a split second, she swept the area to find the fastest route back to Winterfell. She started to run, making as little noise as she could. She was very happy that she had worn one of her slim dresses from Meereen instead of one of those from Westeros. It gave her freedom of movement and didn't get caught on branches as she ran.

There was only one person who would do this. Myranda had been released that morning from the dungeons. Her wounds were still fresh and probably had festered. She would be so angry she would do whatever.

Jessa slid under a felled tree and bolted for the tree line. If she could make it there, she would be at the base of the fortress. She could enter through the Hunter's Gate and be safe.

But arrows were flying every which way. She wasn't sure she was going to make it, but she has to. If she didn't, Myranda was going to kill her.

When she broke through the trees into fresh air, she smacked into something really hard. Looking up, she saw one of Roose's men hanging on to her shoulders.

"Are you all right, miss?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm quite all right. Will you make sure Connor is returned to my rooms when he comes out of the Wolfswood? He ran off when I went to sit among the trees?" she asked as she was passing him.

"Yes, m'lady. I will make sure your hound is brought to you. Have a good day."

She all but ran through stronghold, or what was left of it. It had burned not too long ago but some of the places were still livable, such as some of the rooms they were inhabiting. Her room was the least burnt. Roose said it was the most suitable for a woman.

The huge door swung open and she entered her room. She slammed it behind her and walked over to her mirror. She had ripped her dress while she had been running. She was going to have to hem it. She unlaced her leather and slid it off her shoulders. It was slightly heavy so it made a nice little noise.

She was grabbed from behind and wrestled to the bed. Her hands were forced over her head and tied to the bed post. She swiveled around to see Ramsay staring at her with that evil glint he typically got when he was about to do something. She had been hoping he would leave her alone for a few more days, at least until her stomach healed fully.

"You had Myranda whipped and imprisoned. What do you have to say to that?" he asked as he grabbed a handful of her skirt.

"Just leave me alone. I haven't done anything to her. Your father found out because one of his guards told. I didn't say a word," she replied.

Ramsay slid his hands up her body until they were around her throat. He smiled brightly once before he squeezed, pressing his fingers on either side of her trachea to make sure she couldn't breathe. She coughed and sputtered as he stared down at her with anger raging in his blue eyes.

"Myranda is my favorite bed warmer and you had her beaten. Since I haven't had her for two weeks, you'll be my plaything for the rest of the evening."

Jessa coughed when his hands fell away. Dragging breath into lungs, she watched him through blurry eyes. He grabbed a cane pole that was sitting near the door and swung it around a couple of times before smashing it into her upper thigh. Crying out, her leg buckled and she grabbed the bedpost for support.

"I thought you were never going to break when I touched you," he goaded as tears slipped down her cheeks. She stared at him as she tried to hold on. "Let's see how much longer you can last until you beg."

The cane came crashing down on her other thigh. Jessa screamed again and gripped the bedpost until her arms were screaming from exertion. Ramsay was sickening in the way he enjoyed pain, especially women's pain. He smashed the cane into her left arm but not hard enough to break it.

"Say it," he chanted as he swung the cane like a javelin. "Beg me to stop and I'll consider it. Beg me to do other things to you. Beg me!"

Jessa didn't say anything as he beat her with the cane. Her shoulders, thighs, calves, hips and ribs hurt from the abuse. Her hands were tired of hanging on but she couldn't let go. Her fingers were so sore she couldn't unfurl them.

Ramsay dropped the cane when he realized he wasn't getting anywhere. She was in pain but she was holding herself up by just the skin of her fingers. He didn't realize how strong she was. He had done so much to her since they had met and she was still standing.

"Ramsay," she choked through tears. She had held them back in the beginning but now they were flowing freely. "Please. Stop. I haven't done anything to you or Myranda. All I asked was to be taken to Highgarden. Just let me go."

He stared at her. The one who would never beg was asking to be let go. Ramsay reached up and untied her arms. She collapsed against him, limp as a wet blanket. She was having a hard time breathing so he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Instead of placing her on the pillows, he put her towards the end and tied her hand to the bedpost once again.

"You make a valid point. All you want to do is get to Highgarden, but I told you I had no intention of letting you go. Myranda has been locked up for two weeks and I have been suffering," he said as he wrenched the dress from her shoulders.

Jessa didn't have the strength to move as Ramsay tugged at her clothes. Severely sore and just tired, she remained still as he caressed her body. He watched her face to see if she would fight him, but she hurt too much to fight him.

She might as well give up. He was going to do what he wanted anyway. Why was she fighting? He wasn't going to let her go. He was going to fight to make sure he kept her. The brand on her stomach said everything.

She belonged to Ramsay Bolton.

Ramsay slid his hand along the cane shaped marks that were coming up on her skin. He had a new form of torture that he would use on his enemies. It worked wonders. He had no idea that she bruised so easily. He would have to be careful in the future.

He looked into her eyes. There was still a spark of fire there but she was quiet. Usually she was fighting by now. He watched her chest rise and fall, watched it hitch at the pain.

He hadn't thought this would happen when he released Myranda from the dungeons. He knew she planned on hunting the woman since he had told her Jesse spent most of her time in the Wolfswood. His plan had been to go after Jesse when Myranda did, but he hadn't had to. She had come to him.

He had only been in her room for a second when she had come in. He had gone in to see if she had returned and if he had needed to go into the wood. She had come in and had not thought about anything. He'd had the perfect opportunity.

Jessa opened her eyes when she felt the bed give way. Ramsay stood off to the side disrobing. She tested the bonds keeping her hands above her head. They were tied fast. Resigning herself to the fact that he was about to do whatever, she waited.

"Did you know it was Myranda hunting you?" He asked as he climbed back on the bed.

"I had a feeling," she replied.

He leaned down and bit the brand, smiling when she hissed in pain. "I love to hear you scream." He bit harder, reveling in her cry of agony. "Beg me."

Confused, she wrinkled her brow. "For what?"

"For anything you want. Haven't you figured it out yet? This is a game."

Jessa didn't answer as he sank down her body. Normally his torture was quick and over, but this time he took his time. He tongue darted out, caressing her gently. It was the opposite if how he usually treated her. She was beginning to think he changed his mind until he bit her. She couldn't stop the keening noise that left her.

Ramsay's eyes glowed with mirth as he watched her writhe in agony. Her fists clinched every time he caused her pain. He skimmed his hands up her bruised calves and thighs, digging his nails into injured and uninjured flesh.

Jessa gritted her teeth as he slowly tortured her. But she couldn't hold back the scream as he sank his teeth into her hip.

"Please! Just do it!" She cried.

Ramsay lifted his head. "Do what?" He was already moving up her body.

She swallowed hard. "Just fuck me."

He smiled. "As you wish."

He was already sliding himself in by the time she asked. He wasn't gentle either. As soon as he slammed home, he pulled out and shoved forward again. Jessa didn't have time to grab hold on anything. His motions were strong and forceful, just like everything else he did.

She surprised him when she pulled her knee up to her chest. It slid him deeper than he had ever been. He had an idea and went with it, turning her onto her side. He wrapped her leg around his hip as an anchor.

A sudden thought crashed into him. She had never come. In the last few weeks they had been together, he had taken care of his needs before hers. He wasn't a good host at all. Since he was going to keep her, he had to take care of her in every way.

Jessa was confused when Ramsay reached up and untied her hands. She rubbed her wrists as he stared down at her with a speculative eye. She gasped when he leaned down and took her breast in his mouth. He groaned when she arched her back.

She clambered for a hold. He grabbed her wrists and flipped her onto her hands and knees. He leaned over her back and took her breasts into his hands as he thrust against her back. Leaning back, he pulled her up on her knees, pushing up with his thighs.

"Come for me," he demanded, pressing his mouth against her ear. He felt a tremor run through her.

He felt his release building but couldn't come because he wanted her to experience it. He wanted to have something else to use. Sex was always a good one.

Jessa couldn't control the hormones flaring through her body. Ramsay was playing another game that he was bound to win. She should fight him off but her body wasn't listening. He turned her around without dislodging himself.

They stared at each other as he continued moving. Jessa could feel her body starting to splinter. She couldn't stop it. Too much heat and too many hormones were firing at once. She tossed her head back as everything shattered.

Ramsay continued moving as her body rippled around his. He watched as pleasure ripped through her. She didn't make too much noise as she came off her high. He grabbed her head and kissed her as he let go.

Suddenly exhausted he collapsed beside her, still inside her. He stared at Jessa as she laid on her back. Her eyes suddenly closed and her breathing deepened. She was gone.

Ramsay didn't move for a while. Not until he woke her up to continue his slow decimation.


	6. Chapter 6

Ramsay inhaled as he came awake. He groaned when he realized what he had done. Jessa was wrapped around him. He had stayed the whole day and the night with her. Not on purpose of course. He had simply been enjoying himself and had lost track of time.

If it had been Myranda or Violet he never would have done it. They had begged him on multiple occasions to do so but he hadn't. He had never wanted to blur the lines. Blurred lines were always the worst and he avoided them as much as possible. His father had just legitimized him. He didn't want to screw it up.

Jessa whined, drawing his attention. Her skin was pale, and it made the bruises stand out. Black, blue, red and green colored every joint. He had purposefully stayed away from her knees because if she couldn't bend them, he would lose his fun as well.

He touched her shoulder and she rolled away. A small smile curved his lips. He hadn't broken her yet. Even in so much pain, she tried to fight him. He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, letting his fingers trail over one of the many bites.

"Please," she said hoarsely, grabbing his hand to still it. "Let me get cleaned up. I didn't have dinner and I'm hungry."

Pressing his mouth to any part of her skin that he could, Ramsay smiled. "Now why should I let you do that?"

He watched her head roll back with a tired sigh. He had woke her up multiple times to continue their fun. Somewhere along the way she had just given up. When she had asked him to fuck her, she had still fought some of his advances. But later on in the night, she hadn't cared. She had let him do whatever.

He sat back suddenly, cocking his head to the side to look at her. Even black and blue, something about her spit fire at him.

Unnaturally confused, he got up and reached for his clothes. "I'll send Reek up with a bath."

Jessa didn't believe he was really gone even after she heard the door open and close. She lay in bed, too tired and sore to move. Her shoulders felt inflamed and refused to support her when she pushed up on them. Her hips and shins begged for mercy when she tried to sit up. So she stayed in bed.

Ramsay hadn't been very lenient the night before even after she had given him what he wanted. Then again he had already beaten her black and blue for something she hadn't done. She hadn't told anyone that it had been Myranda who had bruised her eye. That night's watch had done that, but she had paid the price. Myranda had been stood out in the courtyard naked and publicly whipped. Ramsay couldn't lift a finger to do anything. She didn't know if he resented her for it or not. If he did, the beating was worth it. If not, she didn't know what she was going to do.

The door opened again and she tensed. Only this time it wasn't Ramsay. It was Reek. He was carrying two buckets of steaming water. He poured them into the tub by the fire and went to the door for whatever he had left in the hallway. When he was done, he walked over to her bed. She watched as he took in all the bruising and welts on her skin.

She was surprised when he extended his hand. She couldn't lift her shoulders to take hold of it so he reached down. He slid his arms beneath her knees and under her shoulders. He soothed her best he could when she cried out in pain as he carried her to the tub. When the water hit her wounds, she hissed. Reek rushed to the vanity and grabbed a rag he had set there. He dipped it in the water then started to scrub away what little blood had been spilled.

As she sat there, Jessa felt some of the tension flee from her joints and limbs and anything else that had been beaten and abused the last day. Reek had a soothing touch, something she had desperately craved since she arrived weeks ago.

She missed her mother's touch. Lyssa had always known what her daughter had needed and had freely given it. She had been there when the Lowborn boy had broken her daughter's heart. She had made certain that her foster brothers had known his name. The boy hadn't been seen for months after that. But her mother had been there with the touch only a mother could give. She missed it so much.

Sitting in the water, she buried her face in her hands and let the heat bring out all the pain. As Reek washed her back and hair, she cried. It was something she hadn't done in a very long time.

Reek helped pull her from the tub then set about pulling out her clothes. Jessa limped over to the vanity and sat down. She grabbed the brush and ran it through her hair, untangling the mess her curls had become.

"Master Ramsay went to Lady Myranda's room. He said that you were to meet them for breakfast after you bath. Lady Myranda will be joining him," Reek said as he brought over her folded small clothes.

"What does he want with me now?" she asked. "I thought he had enough of me."

"He and Lady Myranda have been having some disagreements lately. She wants to have him all to herself, but Master Ramsay has a few other women he sees when he wants. Lady Myranda doesn't like it so she makes his life as hard as possible. It could be a reason she hates you."

Reek looked at her in the mirror. Together they looked downright pitiful. After a moment, he urged her to take her small clothes. She did and stood to dress. Like a gentleman, he turned his back when she dropped the wet cloth from around her.

It took a lot longer for her to dress. The bath had only given her a moment's reprieve. Her joints were back to aching again. She felt like they were going to fall off if she moved too much. The fabric was extremely rough on her skin. She wasn't going to be able to deal with this very much longer.

Reek opened the door when they were done and showed her out of the room. He was going to lead her to the Great Hall because Ramsay ordered him to. She wasn't going to give the man a hard time. He had been nothing but kind to her when everyone else was cruel.

Roose smiled at her when she walked into the Great Hall. He, Ramsay and some other guy were standing at the head of the table as the servants set the food on the table. Ramsay and the other guy smiled lecherously at her, but Roose noticed something was wrong. He walked right over and placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her, but it only succeeded in causing her pain.

"My dear, what have you done?" he asked.

"I was in the Wolfswood. Connor was chasing something, I don't know what. He bolted from the wood, tripping me. I hit a tree first then smashed my shoulder into a high root. I bruised my shoulders pretty badly and twisted my ankle. I'll live," she said.

Jessa was amazed that the lie slid off her tongue easily. She had never had a reason to lie before and she didn't understand why she just saved Ramsay ass. She looked up and saw him frowning at her. He was just as surprised as she was that she had lied to protect him.

The Great Hall's doors opened once again. A young man with curly hair walked in with four guards. He wasn't dressed like he had been living in the north, and his skin had a nice tawny color like hers. He was also dressed like a royal.

"Good of you to come on such short notice, Ser Loras. I trust your grandmother and father are doing well?" Roose asked.

"My grandmother has the task of helping my sister through her bereavement. It must hurt a young woman to be married only a matter of hours and lose her husband," Ser Loras replied.

Ramsay was suddenly at her side. "His sister married the Joffrey Baratheon, King of just about everything. He was assassinated on their wedding day. Sad really. I admired the boy, except that he had other men do his dirty work."

Jessa ignored him as she listened to Roose talk to Loras. He looked vaguely familiar. Something triggered her memory. A photo, a photo she had seen in her mother's chest in their rooms. A man with blond hair and a round face.

"Let's eat," Roose said suddenly. "Loras, sit on my right beside my son Ramsay. Our other guest will sit across from you."

As fate would have it, Jessa was placed beside Myranda. The other woman glared daggers at her, but she ignored them. She tried to ignore Ramsay, but he wasn't having it. He kicked her sore leg under the table.

"Jessa, this is Ser Loras Tyrell, heir to Highgarden. Loras, this is Jessa… Jessa…" Roose turned to her when he couldn't find her name. "Did you ever tell us your surname?"

She shook her head. "No, my lord, I didn't. My name is Jessa Flowers."

This caught Loras and Ramsay's attentions. Loras looked at her closely. Ramsay looked between the two of them, his anger rising with every passing minute.

"Who is your mother?" Loras asked.

Swallowing hard, she lifted her head. "Lyssa Rivers is my mother."

Loras looked shocked. "You can't be…" He covered his mouth with his hand as he stared at her. "My grandmother said you were dead."

"Dead? Why would I be dead? I'm right here."

He laughed. "No, my lady, you misunderstand. My father had a love child with a woman he claimed he loved. When my grandmother found out, she sent the pregnant woman away so my father would never know the child. I think the child is either old than me by a few months or younger the same. My father found out why my grandmother had done and went in search of the missing woman, to no avail." He leaned forward. "You have my father's eyes, my lady."

Ramsay sputtered his drink. "You think she is the Lost Child of Highgarden? It's a story."

"So are the White Walkers, but the Night's Watch guards against them. Why shouldn't the Lost Child of Highgarden be real?"

"Jessa, how would you feel about going to Highgarden with me to see my father?" Loras asked, completely ignoring Ramsay.

All of the Boltons looked at her. Jessa knew this was the perfect opportunity to meet her father and his family, but with everything going on in Westeros she didn't think it was a good idea. Especially when her gaze landed on Ramsay and saw his jaw set in an angry line. If she said yes, he would react violently. If she said no, she may never get to Highgarden.

Ramsay knew this wasn't good. His father had invited one of the Tyrells to see if they knew anyone who would have lost a child roughly twenty something years ago. It was a good faith gesture. The Tyrells were on the Baratheons' side. They had no idea that Loras would show up and proclaim that Jessa was his father's bastard daughter. Ramsay didn't like it.

Loras sensed her hesitation and smiled gently. "Don't worry about it. I'm going to be here for a few days. You can tell me your decision when I'm preparing to leave."

Jessa nodded and turned her attention to her food. She tried to ignore the glare she was getting from Ramsay. She did a good job of it for a long while. Then Myranda slammed her fist down on her bruised thigh. Dropping her fork, she made a high pitched noise as she gripped her leg. Tears pricked at her eyes as the pain shot up her leg.

"My dear, are you all right?" Roose asked.

She shoved her chair back and stood, making sure she didn't hit her legs. "I've got to go back to my room. I'm not feeling too well. Excuse me."

She didn't wait for anyone as she hurried as fast as she could from the Great Hall. Her legs screamed at her to stop but the tears wouldn't. Pain and annoyance combined to form a really bad combination. She had to stay away from Ramsay and Myranda. There was only one place they would never look for her.


	7. Chapter 7

"Father, you cannot let her go to Highgarden," Ramsay said as he followed his father to the Guards Hall.

"Ramsay, she came to us as a guest, not a ward or a prisoner," Roose said. "I can't deny her passage to Highgarden, especially since we asked the Tyrells to send someone to see her. They did, and now if she wants to ride south, she can. I will not stop her. Neither will you."

Ramsay watched his father walk away, shaking his head in a mix of anger and annoyance. How could he not want to hold onto a valuable person? If anything happened with the Tyrells and the Baratheons, Jessa was a valuable hostage. He was well on his way to make sure she stayed in the North, stayed with him.

He turned and headed towards the Courtyard. He knew Jessa would be sitting under one of the massive trees with a book. Connor wouldn't be too far from her and that dog hated him. He had peed on his boots and ruined them. He had wanted to kill that dog, but Jessa had sequestered him away when she found out.

He heard soft voices when he turned the corner. He saw Loras and Jessa sitting with their heads together over the book in Jessa's lap. Loras was muttering something and his eyes shifted along the page. Every now and then Jessa would help with whatever word he was stumbling over. She would stop him and pronounce the word then he would repeat it to her. She would smile at him when he got it right then they would return to reading.

She looked so peaceful as she sat against her normal tree. Her curls fell against her cheek as she tilted her head to keep up with Loras's fast paced reading. She watched his shadow fall over her book as he read.

"How did you learn the common language?" Loras asked suddenly. "I didn't think Essos knew the common tongue."

"No, it does. Some of the native peoples have their own language such as the Dothraki. Meereen, Slaver's Bay, and Yunkai have multiple languages because some of the slaves are bought from other countries such as Westeros. My adoptive father was a slave owner. He and my mother made an agreement. He would claim me as his adoptive child and she would work for him for free. It was kind of like indenture servitude."

He made a face then looked at the book. "What language is this in?"

"Valyrian. I learned it as well. My adoptive father thought it was a very good idea that all his children know various languages. We all learned at least three. My mother learned Meereen and that was it."

Loras leaned back against the tree, taking the book from her lap and closing it. "How did you find out about your father?"

Jessa readjusted when her shoulder started to ache. "I didn't know I was a bastard until my mother told me. I had seen a picture in one of her trunks when I was a kid, but I never asked. A few months ago she told me I needed to leave and head to Highgarden. Find the Tyrells, she said. I had no idea who they were, but I knew I had to leave or risk being hurt."

He looked around the Courtyard. "Why are you in Winterfell?"

"I actually landed near Moat Cailin. The Boltons took me in until I could find passage to Highgarden. I've been trying but everything seems to go wrong."

Loras looked over. "The offer still stands. You can ride with me to Highgarden when I return. You can meet my grandmother and father. Maybe you will understand what happened between them. It might help us both understand."

Jessa was confused. "What do you mean? Us both?"

"Mace Tyrell is my father. If he is yours as well, that would make you my sister."

"Your bastard sister."

Loras took her hand. "A sister nonetheless. You would be sister-in-law to the King of the Seven Kingdoms. You would have more power and wealth than many in Westeros."

She pulled her hand away from his and pushed herself in a standing position. "I don't want wealth or power. I just want a place I belong. I don't care that I'm a bastard. I just want a family." She looked at him. "What about you? Won't everyone think that you're bringing home a whore?"

"No. I don't run that way." He smiled when she didn't understand what he meant. "It's all right. No one would think I'm bringing home a whore. Let's get you inside. It's a tad chilly."

He frowned when she shied away from a hand to her back. Ramsay watched as she led the way through the courtyard back to the entrance. They were already forming a bond. If Jessa left with Loras, the Boltons would lose a valuable hostage. Ramsay wouldn't let that happen. He would come up with a way to keep her in the Bolton territory.

Running, he shed his cloak when he got inside. It landed in a heap on the floor but he didn't go back to get it. There was no need to when someone would pick it up as they went by. He was sitting around the corner when Loras and Jessa returned to her room. Loras bid her a good day and left her door when she closed it. He didn't hear the lock turn so he figured she left it unlocked.

He made sure no one was around when walked up to her door. There was no need to knock now that Winterfell belonged to the Boltons. He could do whatever he wanted. So he went in.

Jessa was sitting at the vanity across from the door. She met his eyes in the mirror briefly then looked down. He walked in and closed the door behind him. She didn't look at him again but she heard him come up right behind her. Ramsay ran his fingers up her jaw line. In the mirror he saw her close her eyes, waiting. He didn't make her wait long.

On his last stroke, he wrapped his hands around her throat, pressing his thumbs against the back of her head. He stared at her through the reflective glass.

"You are not going to Highgarden," he gritted out. "You are going to stay here."

Jessa stood with some difficulty and turned in his hands. His thumbs pressed against her trachea but she didn't budge. Ramsay was shocked when she grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged him forward. It dropped his elbows to just under his chest so the pressure was released from her windpipe. Their bodies were now flush against each other.

Ramsay's body tightened painfully. She was so close to him he could feel her body heat through their layers of clothes. He dropped his hands to where they rested on her collarbone. They stared at each other for a long time.

Suddenly he grabbed her hair and yanked her head to one side. Jessa's neck popped with the force. She stared up into Ramsay's angry and psychotic face.

"You are _**not**_ going to Highgarden. You are not going anywhere." He punctuated each word with a tug.

"What about a deal?" she asked. His brow twitched in interest. "I go to Highgarden and meet everyone. If they don't want me, I will come back here. If they do, I stay in Highgarden."

Ramsay hated that he was thinking about accepting it. He didn't want to lose a prime play thing. Jessa fought him where Myranda, Violet, and whoever he had on retainer just went with his little plan. Myranda was as blood thirsty as he was, but she was clingy. Violet was too wishy-washy and the other girls didn't have the good sense the gods had given them. Jessa made his life interesting.

"Fine," he replied, blue eyes sparking. "You can go to Highgarden and meet your family. If they want you to stay, you may stay. If they don't want you, you will come back here and stay with me for as long as I say."

Jessa nodded, agreeing to the terms she had come up with. Ramsay smashed his mouth to hers, biting her lip as reprimand in defying him. He slid his hands beneath the jacket and slid it of her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a whooshing noise. He was pleasantly surprised when she pulled at the laces of his vest. She had never done it before, and it turned him on.

He ripped at the laces of her dress, pulling them from their holes. His knuckles hit the bruises on her shoulders, forcing her to arch her back right into him. He shoved her dress off her shoulders then sank his teeth right on the roll of it.

He spun her around and shoved her face first onto the vanity, holding her there with one hand as he undressed them both with the other. He kicked her feet wide as he alternated between kissing and nipping her spine. He ran his fingers around her thigh until they slipped into her. Jessa hissed as his fingernail scored her soft flesh.

Ramsay grabbed the back of her head and forced her to look into the mirror. "Look at yourself. This is what I see when I'm inside you. The pure pain and ecstasy that comes over your face when I move inside you, when you come." He leaned his head down and met her eyes as he whispered in her ear. "You're a whore, and you never even knew it."

Jessa gasped as he slid himself inside. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he pulled back and shoved forward again. He stared at her, watching her with that smile of his that told her he was being sadistic and taking what he wanted again.

He planted his hands on top of hers and used it as leverage to push forward. He set a steady rhythm and she watched him intently. She had watched him once before when they were doing this. He hadn't been this angry ever but she was certain he was about to take it out on her again.

Bruises mottled her skin. She could see them in the dimly lit room. Her shoulders, ribs, and neck sported them. She knew there were more below the belt but she couldn't see them right now. There were also bites marring her skin as well. She could connect all of them and make an intricate design.

Ramsay grabbed her arms and pulled her into a standing position. He held her wrists as he shoved his hips forward and up. Having her stand up sent shockwaves of pleasure through him. He pressed his face into her neck and watched as his shockwaves flowed into her. Her muscles clamped around him and he wrapped her arms around his waist. It shoved him deeper as she started having a violent orgasm. She tried to arch away from him as her body quivered but he wasn't having it. He held on tightly as he urged her through it.

"You're a whore who loves to be abused then fucked," he hissed in her ear.

He felt the throbbing that told him he was about to lose it. He pulled her back to his front as his hips shot upward over and over. He huffed in her ear as his orgasm made his veins burn. He was still lodged inside her when he looked over her shoulder into the mirror.

"This is what you are, Jessa. You are the property of a Bolton. I will never let you go, even if you are in Highgarden. You will never know where I am or what corner I will come around." He met her gaze once again as he thrust up. "You. Are. Mine."

Jessa didn't fight as he flipped her over and plastered her back against the vanity. He lifted her arms, smiling when she grimaced, and wrapped them around his neck. He adjusted her enough so that her butt rested on the wood and wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed his thighs against the structure and moved forward.

He stared her in the face, the first time he had done that. He wasn't going to miss anything else. Her emotions were true as she took every ounce of abuse he gave her. She didn't argue because she knew it was just going to make him angry. Instead, she would play a roundabout game of how can she get what she wants. She was very intelligent and sneaky. In no time she'd had him agreeing to a deal.

Something in his face told her he was about to come. She grabbed his face and kissed him. The shock sent him over the edge. He grappled for a hold as he kissed her with fire and passion and rode through his orgasm. When he was done, he pulled away and stared at her. Then he got an idea.

"I will escort you to Highgarden," he said.


	8. Chapter 8

Jessa held on to the seat across from her and tried to keep from making any noise. Ramsay used the movement of the carriage to shove his dick up inside her, letting everything rub as it willed. An hour out of Winterfell, he grabbed her and had his way with her. To get his point across, he had sat still and let the movement of the carriage do his work.

Roose and Loras had been pleasantly surprised when Ramsay had stated that he would be riding south to Highgarden with Jessa. Myranda had stared at her with a stony face when she had found out then had gone to Ramsay's room for a few hours. She had heard them down the hall as Reek had helped her pack.

Loras had bought a carriage from Roose and had had it stocked with fruits, cheeses and wine. He had thought she would need something for the two week journey. On the back of the carriage the tents and other items had been stacked systematically on the back. She had tried to help but Ramsay had pulled her away to have one last tryst before they left.

Or so she had thought.

Ramsay gripped her under the arms and pulled her up, shoving her legs on either side of his. He held her hands in between them as he helped her ride him. She held on to his hips as he forced her up.

They came together and Jessa slumped back against him. Ramsay kissed her jaw as she tried to catch her breath. He ran his hands up and down her sides as she came down from her high. He turned her head and kissed her deeply even though she was still breathless. He forced her to stand. After he slid out, he fixed her small clothes then sat her down across from him.

"This has turned into a wonderful trip," he said as he moved the curtain away from the window. "We'll be arriving in Highgarden shortly. You should rest while you can."

She sat back and let her head fall back into the corner. A part of her wanted him to turn around and go back to Winterfell. Another part was glad someone she knew was coming with her to Highgarden. It was a stressful thing traveling alone. She had done it a month and a half ago and didn't want to do it again. Not alone.

She couldn't believe she was actually going to Highgarden. She was going to meet her supposed father and see where he had been raised. She was going to see where her mother had lived before she had gotten pregnant with her. She knew her mother had been happy in Highgarden before she had left for Meereen. She said she had had a smile to rival everyone's. She still had a beautiful smile.

She looked at Ramsay. He had a contented smile on his face as he stared out the window. For the last couple of days, he hadn't been as vicious. She still had bruises on her body but they weren't as nasty as they had been the day after they were created. She didn't hurt as much, but that was because he had been calmer than normal.

Myranda on the other hand hadn't been as calm. She had raged on Ramsay the day she found him packing for Highgarden. She had called Jessa the same names Ramsay had during one of their altercations. Whore, slut, and loose were a few that came to mind. Ramsay had rounded on her, snapping her head off and putting her in her place. The woman hadn't been happy but she had stayed away from the farewell party.

"Ramsay," she said and waited until he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "why did you come? It wasn't because of our deal."

"I wanted to make sure you held up your end of the deal. Forgive me if I don't trust you," he replied.

"I haven't given you any reason not to. You've beaten me, abused me, and have done what you've wanted. I haven't said a word. There are only two people who know and they're still at Winterfell." He had left Reek with Myranda. He didn't want to risk having the shell of Theon Greyjoy looming over the lands of Highgarden. He might lose two belongings instead of one.

"Is it so bad of me to want to know my family?" she asked. Ramsay turned to look at her fully. "You're a bastard, or were before you were legitimized. Your father talks a lot when he's drunk. Yet you knew who your father was. I have no clue. I don't know if what Loras says is true or if my father is someone completely different. The only thing I know is that my last name is Flowers because I was conceived in Highgarden."

"You should be happy I'm letting you go in general." He leaned forward. "I could have said no and tied you up with the hounds where the only person you could talk to was Reek. But my father invited Loras and he saw your face. He says you have a resemblance to him and his father. Now that you've heard that, only two things would have happened. You would have either gone on your own in the middle of the night or I would have escorted you to and from. The first you would never have come back. The latter means I still have some control."

"Jessa." He grabbed her chin and made her look at him. "Why were you teaching Loras how to read Valyrian?"

"He asked me what I was reading. When I told him he asked if I could teach him some. He wants to learn the language of Meereen next."

Ramsay lost his temper. Once again he jerked her to him. Her knees hit the bottom of the carriage so hard they jostled her teeth. He tipped her head back with a forceful tug of her hair. "You are not a free woman. You are not a slave, but you are not free."

Undeterred, she scowled up at him. "You said that if the Tyrells wanted me, I could stay. Do not go back on your word." Ramsay's smile was degrading. "What?"

"You don't get it. I may have made the deal, but we never cemented it. I don't have to let you go. At the moment, I'm not feeling very inclined. I have told you once. You are mine."

Jessa shoved him hard, pulling a clump of her hair out. His smile turned playful as he fell hard against his bench. She looked down at him as she felt her head. "I have done everything you wanted. All I've asked for is to get to know my family. Now you're saying that I can't even do that. I'm tired of all the shit, Ramsay. Tell me something honest."

Ramsay grabbed her and rolled over top her. "I told you I was going to break you, but you're as tough as Valyrian steel. I accept that, but do not argue with me over this. I have treated you much more decently than I have anyone else, including Myranda. I have fought with her over you. But my patience is running thin, Jessa. I might not be able to break you, but I will own you. You are still a guest in my father's house, but that doesn't mean I won't come see you every night"

"You do that already. Myranda is angry."

"She's always angry." He planted his fists on either side of her head and got right in her face. "I don't share."

Jessa didn't respond because they heard shots from the front of their caravan. Ramsay sat up and looked out the window. The tiered castle was the first thing anyone ever saw when they rode upon Highgarden. It was huge and white, and the fragrance of roses was ever present. He moved so Jessa could sit up. She rubbed her shoulder then looked out the window.

"Loras!" she called. The rider closest to the carriage stopped his horse. "Please tell me that is only part of the city."

Loras smiled. "Are you nervous? It's okay to be nervous. My grandmother can be a hard woman sometimes, but I'm sure once you explain everything she will attempt to get to know you. If not, I will always write."

Ramsay shackled her wrist. "She's never been the nervous sort."

Loras's smile fell. "I don't approve of you being here, but you haven't laid a hand on Jessa. She seems to be at ease with you. Do not push your luck, Bastard of Bolton."

When he rode up ahead to lead the group into the city, Ramsay looked at her. "We will have adjoining rooms, per orders of my father."

Jessa folded her hands in her lap as they rode the rest of the way into the city. It was all white and shone like a beacon in the day. The castle rose up as the main attraction behind the city's walls. She inhaled deeply, bringing the scent of flowers and sun into her lungs.

"I wish you hadn't used that cane on me," she muttered.

She didn't think he could hear her so it surprised her when he said, "Why?"

"It's so warm here. I could wear one of my dresses from Meereen."

"Those dresses show off too much skin. I don't like them."

She sighed and leaned against the carriage wall. Her head was beginning to throb. She could feel it pulsing right behind her eyes, and it was just getting worse.

When the carriage stopped, her head hit the windowsill. The pain rocketed up the side of her head and exploded across her forehead, making her teeth rattle. The door opened and the bright sunlight made her wince. It didn't help when she stepped out into the white area. She couldn't even open her eyes it was so bright.

Someone was beside her. Since she was temporarily blinded, she couldn't see who it was. It wasn't Ramsay she knew that much.

"Are you all right?" It was Loras. She should know due to the soft and gentle hand.

"I've been in the carriage too long with the curtains closed," she said. "The light is a little bright."

He smiled, or she thought he did. "It will be all right in just a moment. You'll be inside and maybe you'll be able to see."

Jessa allowed him to lead her through the crowds of people that had gathered. Their voices melded together and caused her head to throb even worse. She stopped just shy of the grand staircase that led them to the castle.

She started to sway as her body broke out in a sweat. She looked at Loras without seeing him. He was just a blur of gold and white and anything else that played around her vision. Something was very wrong.

"I don't feel right," she said seconds before darkness settled over her eyes.

Ramsay grabbed her as she fell. He rubbed his hand across her face. It came away wet with sweat. He looked up at Loras.

"She's burning hot with fever. We have to get her somewhere so she can lie down," he said.

"Boys and men are clueless when it comes to things like this," an older woman said as she swept into the room. "Bring the poor child with you. We have a room available for her. Loras, call the Maester."

Both men followed the woman briskly down the hall. She walked with serious intent. Ramsay looked down at Jessa as her head rested against his shoulder. Her breathing was labored and she coughed a couple of times.

"If what the note your father sent, Lord Bolton, this girl is not used to cold weather. Keeping her in Winterfell was a shock to her system." The woman stopped in front of a set of double doors and a servant opened them. "Place her on the bed."

Ramsay brushed past her and laid Jessa down as gently as he could. That sent her into a coughing spasm. He quickly rolled her on to her side just in case she vomited a little in her mouth. He didn't want her choking to death.

"Grandmother, that is the woman I sent the raven about. That is Jessa Flowers," Loras said.

"I can see that, boy. Although I have never met the Bastard of Bolton." She turned to Ramsay. "Or should I say the newly legitimized Bastard of Bolton. I'm Olenna Tyrell. I never thought I'd meet Roose's bastard. I always thought Domeric would rule the Dreadfort." Ramsay didn't know whether to be offended or not. "How did you come about his child?"

"Jessa stepped off a ship at Moat Cailin. She said she was trying to get to Highgarden because that was where her mother had come from before she moved to Meereen. She said she was technically from the Riverlands but had lived in Highgarden for about twenty years."

Olenna nodded as the Maester came through the door. "Lyssa Rivers was the bastard daughter of House of Wayn. Her father was killed in Robert's Rebellion when Lyssa was fourteen. She was sent to Highgarden after the war. She worked here even though she was a ward, much like Theon Greyjoy was at Winterfell. But Lyssa was always oblivious to other people's emotions. When my Mace started to show interest in her, she stayed away. But your father, Loras, has always had a one track mind."

"Are you saying that Jessa is my father's bastard?" Loras asked.

"As I live and breathe, but your mother was pregnant with you at the same time. She was newly with child and no one wanted her to lose you. So I sent Lyssa away. I told her that if she ever wanted her child to know its father, she would have to send it to me alone. Then I would judge whether or not it was worthy to live in Highgarden."

The Maester stood from where he had been sitting. "This young woman has been stricken with the fever. Traveling and strain on her system has caused her to fall in ill health. She must rest for a day or two. I have given her something to bring down her fever. We must bathe her in cool water and make sure she gets plenty of fluids."

"I will stay," Ramsay said.

"Unless she is your betrothed or your wife, I must insist that you have a separate room."

Cold rage settled over him. "For the last three weeks she has been in my care. I came here as an escort and I will remain with her until you decide on whether or not you want to keep her."

"Of course I don't want to keep her, but Mace never knew Lyssa was pregnant when she left. If I let her leave without meeting him, I will never hear the end of it."

"Grandmother, you can't send Jessa away. She is part of our family," Loras said.

"She is the bastard of a woman your father couldn't stay away from."

Olenna turned and walked from the chambers. Loras stood at the foot of the bed as servants milled about. "My grandmother is a hard woman. I think it stems from my father being a little light headed. She's had to be the head of the house for quite some time." He shifted uncomfortably. "Stay with Jessa. You're the only one she knows here. I don't want someone odd being in the room with her when she awakes."

Ramsay sat on the edge of the bed as Loras exited. All of this was because of him. He had used her and beaten her. He should have seen the signs long before this. He would have let her rest in peace on the way here. Instead he had used every second to do what he wanted. Now he was stuck in Highgarden with a sick ward.


	9. Chapter 9

Jessa didn't know if she was awake or unconscious. She felt as if she were floating in between reality and dreams. She knew she wasn't at Winterfell anymore, nor was she in Meereen. She heard people muttering in a language her brain wasn't picking up.

She felt hot and cold at the same time. She could feel the softness of some sort of fabric rubbing against her skin. She was sweating through all of it, something that made her very uncomfortable. She tried to move but someone kept holding her down, telling her not to move. She would have moved anyway, but her body felt very heavy.

Some things kept coming back to her in short bursts. She remembered being at Winterfell with the Boltons and suffering at the hands of Ramsay Bolton. She remembered having so much sex with him she couldn't count how many times. He had beaten her many times as well. Some of the times had been worse than others

She remembered riding in a carriage but not much else. She could white and that was it. Everything else was black.

Ramsay sat by Jessa's bed wrapping and unwrapping a rag around his hand. She was mumbling something about being too cold and too hot. She was restless. Her fever had left her not knowing where she was. Her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and her breathing was still labored. The Maester said her fever was so high that nothing they had was bringing down. He had ordered a tub to be brought to the room and filled with cold water.

The servants had brought the tub in at the same time Loras came in. They had been about to lift Jessa and put her in the tub when he had swooped in to take her from them. Ramsay had had no say in what they were doing. He had been concerned that they were going to take her gown off because he wasn't certain what her skin looked like. He had been nervous they would have seen bruises and figured out what he had been doing. He really didn't mind killing people but they were technically Jessa's family. She would try to kill him if he did that.

They hadn't taken her gown off but had helped Loras removed his boots. He had stepped in the tub and had shuttered before sinking down into the cold water. He had had to wrap his arms tightly around Jessa because she had started to fight to get out of the water. Loras had grabbed her wrists and had wrapped them around her waist as he had murmured comforting words to her. She must have recognized his voice because she had instantly calmed down.

Ramsay didn't know what else to do. They had been in Highgarden for two days and nothing had been going right. Jessa was supposed to be getting to know her father's family but instead was sick. He didn't know what else to do. He couldn't leave and go back to Winterfell. He didn't want to put up with Myranda. She would be annoying, asking him to fuck her senseless. Reek was a lot more tolerable, but they weren't Jessa. She was bright fire to his sadistic ice. He could do whatever he wanted and she would still fight him. He didn't want to give that up.

He lifted his head when he heard Loras humming. He was running a rag over Jessa's face and neck. She was finally resting peacefully, her head turned into his neck. Loras turned to look at him.

"I never thought the sadistic son of Roose Bolton had a decent bone in his body," he said.

"It comes with the territory of having a guest. My father said none of us could be mean to her. So far the only one was a female servant of mine," Ramsay replied. He couldn't rightly tell him that the woman was his bedwarmer.

Loras didn't buy it. He could tell by the look on his face. "Then can you explain these?" He shifted Jessa's nightgown to show him the bite marks and bruises on her shoulder.

Ramsay felt cold dread then anger settle over him. Loras waited patiently, preoccupying his time with bathing the woman he was holding. He was at a loss for words. He couldn't explain it. His main reason for being cruel to anyone was he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it even more when Jessa argued and fought with him. Everyone else just gave him what he wanted. He loved hearing people scream in pain. There was just something about it.

"Don't." Loras stopped moving and Ramsay pulled his chair forward. Jessa opened her eyes briefly and took them in. She couldn't move very much so she lifted her head for a second then dropped it back to Loras's shoulder. "Don't."

"My dear, he has beaten you," Loras said.

"It was my doing. I egged it on." Her eyelids became very heavy and she looked like she couldn't stay awake. "Just don't start a fight. You won't win."

"I'm a highly decorated and loved knight. I can take him."

"No, you can't. Please don't start something you can't win. I just met you."

Loras couldn't fight with a sick person so he framed her head and pressed it against his chest. He felt her breath huff out as she felt into unconsciousness once again. Loras gathered her to him and stood. Ramsay handed him a drying towel and stepped back as the other man wrapped it around the woman in his arms.

Once again Jessa had lied about what he was doing to her. Loras had found the bruises and the bites he had inflicted, but she had covered for him yet again. He was starting to feel like the ass he was.

Loras placed Jessa in her bed and covered her up. He looked at Ramsay angrily before he walked out of the room.

Jessa groaned as she came awake. Her throat was raw and her nostrils clogged. She blinked a couple of times as she tried to remember where she was. All she could remember was she had been in a carriage.

She sat up, grabbing her head as it throbbed in protest. She tossed the blankets off and stood from the bed. She started to wobble so she grabbed hold of the bedpost. Getting her balance, she stumbled across the room until she reached the pitcher and bowl. She couldn't lift the pitcher to pour the water. She tried three times but it didn't work. Her strength was gone, sickness having taken it away.

She looked around the room, eyes falling to the tub. She staggered across the room and sat in the chair Ramsay had vacated long ago. She sat in it and grabbed the cloth that was laying on the edge of the tub. Dipping it in the water, she used it to wash away the grit and sweat she could feel caking her skin.

Jessa looked around the room, looking for her trunk. She couldn't find it so she went back to the bed and grabbed the sheet from the mattress. After wrapping it around her body, she held on to furniture as she walked over to one of the big chairs by the window. She plopped down and opened the curtain.

Squinting, she stared down at the city below her. Highgarden was the capital of the Reach and it looked do lovely. She had only seen it in books and paintings before. None of those had anything on the city before her now. It was still bright white, but not as blinding as it had been when she first arrived.

The door opening jarred her from the view. She squinted in the dimness until her eyes adjusted. Loras was coming in the room with a few servants behind him. He looked to the bed then stopped when he noticed she was gone. He looked frantically around the room, sighing when he saw her in the chair. He came over quickly.

"I thought you had left," he said as he kneeled in front of her.

"I don't think I could if I tried," she replied, frowning when she noticed that her voice was raspy. "How long has it been?"

"You've been sick for three days. Your fever was so high we had to put you in a tub of cold water for hours. Every now and then you would come to, but you've been out for the most part." He ran his hand through her wet hair.

"Where's Ramsay?"

Loras sat back on his heels, completely stunned. "Why do you want him? He beats you. You can't go back to him."

"I don't have a choice." She tried to stand but fell into him.

"You do have a choice. You can stay here in Highgarden."

"You don't understand, Loras. I made a deal with him. He wasn't going to let me come, but I made a deal. If I came and this family accepted me, I would be able to live in Highgarden. I would be able to have a family and a place to call home. But if you reject me, I have to go back to Winterfell as a ward to the Boltons. I have to stay with him until we find out which way this will go."

Loras looked at her, unsure what to say. Even after being sick, she was adamant about keeping her word. His grandmother would honor that. But he had to try to get her to stay. He hadn't told anyone about his findings, not yet. He didn't feel like he had to.

"Grandmother wants you down at dinner if you feel up to it," he said.

"I'll go. I'm feeling much better," she said.

He smiled. "I'll leave the servants here to help you change. I'll see you in a bit."

She watched him walk out of the room then walked over to the plate the servants had brought in. She grabbed a goblet of water and guzzled it like she had lived in the desert for week without it. She refilled it then set about getting dressed.

She was aggravated with a pair small clothes when the door opened again. She thought it was one of the servants so she went about her business. She felt a pair of very familiar hands on her shoulders, spinning her around. Ramsay took her in for a brief second then grabbed the fabric from her hands. He was quick about it, helping her into them.

"Did I say anything while I was out of it?" she asked.

He stopped what he was doing to look at her. There was some sort of raw emotion in his blue eyes. He held out her dress. She spun around and stepped into the dress when he pooled it on the floor.

"Loras saw the bruises. He brought it up when he was holding you in the tub," he said. "He looked ready to kill me. You defended me. Loras didn't argue with you because you were running fever and blabbering."

Jessa had to hold on to something as he laced the dress. She was still weak from dehydration so when he was done she tried to walk away but her knees buckled. Ramsay wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.

"I'm fine," she said.

"No, you're not. We should get you downstairs so you can sit down," he replied.

She noticed he didn't put any shoes on her feet. They walked out and she had to let Ramsay escort her. She had been carried in the first time she had come in so she didn't know the layout.

She followed Ramsay down the hallway. It was smooth going for a bit then they came to the stairs. She went down them slow but it still didn't help. A third of the way down, she tripped and would have tumbled had Ramsay not grabbed her. He pulled her to him quickly then slipped his hands under her knees. She didn't argue because she was going to lose.

Right before they got to the Great Hall, Ramsay set her on her feet but kept an arm around her to keep her upright. She fisted a hand in his clothes to still the tremors running through her.

Loras came around the table and took her from Ramsay. She looked at him sadly but couldn't really argue with anyone. She was tiring quickly.

"For the gods' sakes, put that girl in a chair. She looks like she's about to pitch over," Olenna said as she came sweeping in. She sat at the head of the table with her son on her right and grandson on her left. "Put the girl beside you, Loras. Lord Bolton, sit beside my son."

Jessa smiled gratefully at Loras as he helped her into the chair. Olenna didn't bother being angry about the lack of protocol. She sat down and motioned for supper to start. Jessa could feel her head starting to swim. Her vision blurred as her ears buzzed.

"You need to drink something," Loras whispered to her. She barely heard him. "Jessa."

She swallowed thickly. "I'm okay." She took hold of the goblet but spilled it in her lap. "Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"Nonsense," Olenna said. "I asked for everyone to come to supper. Loras said you were up and moving around so I asked for you to be at supper. I have taken your illness into account and have ordered soup and bread for tonight's main course."

"Thank you, m'lady."

Jessa picked at the food placed in front of her. She was hungry but couldn't force herself to eat. She tried to get as much water into her system but it was quickly making her sick. She couldn't follow the train of conversation. For most of the dinner she sat back with her hands folded in her lap.

Ramsay couldn't stand it anymore. Jessa was not at all well. He had caused most of it by forcing her into things. He should have seen the signs of something being wrong with her but he didn't. And he continued doing whatever he wanted.

He shoved his chair back and stomped around the table. He pulled her chair back and swept her up into his arms.

"Lord Bolton, what are you doing?" Olenna demanded as Loras and Mace stood up.

"I may have the worst reputation here, but the woman you so graciously accepted at your home is still sick. She can't sit here and eat. Now I will take her back to her room so she could get the rest she deserves," Ramsay sneered.

Jessa wasn't aware of what was going on. All she knew was that Ramsay was storming up the stairs back to her room. She closed her eyes and the next thing she knew she was in her bed and he was gone. She got up and painstakingly stripped out of her dress.

Ramsay returned a few minutes later with a silver platter of fruits and bread. He had a pitcher of water in the other hand. She sat up in bed and propped herself up on the headboard. Ramsay handed her a goblet of water with the caution of drinking it too quickly. He made a plate then handed it to her.

"You're never this nice," she said. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I can't help but think I fucked this whole thing up. My father and I should have seen the symptoms, but we didn't. I didn't." His eyes shifted like he was uncomfortable. "My father isn't going to be happy about this. I'm already on thin ice as it is with him. He thinks I'm too cruel."

"You are." He stared at her with a mixture of anger and hurt. She chewed slowly for a second. "You are cruel and manipulative. You take what you want without any thought to anyone but yourself. You tortured Theon and me. You beat and took advantage of me."

Ramsay wrung his hands. "Do you want me to let you go?"

"You wouldn't be able to. I belong to Ramsay Bolton remember?"

His anger was getting worse and worse. No one had been so brutally honest with him. His father just sat back and let him do what he wanted because he knew no one could stop him.

Jessa ate as much as she could then shoved the plate away. She could feel her temperature starting to rise again so she slumped down and covered up. The room darkened and the bed dipped. Ramsay gathered her to him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"We'll sweat your fever out tonight. You'll be better by morning. Sleep," he said.

He waited until she settled down then he let a breath escape him.


	10. Chapter 10

"I think it's best if you return to Winterfell," Olenna said the next morning at breakfast.

Ramsay looked up from his sausage links at the lady of the house. He had spent the entire night with Jessa as she fought once again to keep her fever down and breathing normal. This sickness had taken her by force and wasn't going to let go of her any time soon.

"Excuse me, but I'm her escort here," he said.

"I understand that, but you have to understand. The woman cannot travel and she wouldn't get better in that harsh environment. You brought her hear to find her family. She found us. We want to get to know her, but we can't do that with you influencing her decisions. You will return to Winterfell tomorrow."

He glared at the young man across the table from him. All of this had to be the work of Loras. Ever since he had found out what had happened to his newly acquired sister, he had been trying to sway his grandmother to send Ramsay away. He had been hounding almost everyone to get his way.

Loras didn't look shocked at all. In fact he looked smug. Ramsay sat back and finished his breakfast. When it was done and everything cleared away, he went out to the stables to have his horse prepared for the next day. He also made sure he had enough food and equipment to camp for a week or two.

He saw the Knight of Flowers following the hallway that led to Jessa's room. His anger still at the top, he stormed down the hall and up the flight of stairs. He tossed open the door to see Loras sitting on the bed beside Jessa. Ramsay strode across the room and grabbed Loras by his collar. He delivered a nose crushing punch that sprawled the man out.

Ramsay let his anger take control of him. He'd had almost had a moment where he forgot who he was. He was a sadistic, bloodthirsty man who enjoyed causing pain to his victims. He had hunting dogs that he took on hunts so they could rip their victims apart. He had violent sex with Myranda because she would do as he asked. Now he was about to rip apart the man who was trying to take his new plaything away from him.

Jessa knew something was wrong before Ramsay even showed up. Loras was too excited about something. He had been blabbering away about something but she had only caught one or two words. Until he said Ramsay and Winterfell. She had barely come awake when Ramsay had come through the door and made a beeline for the Tyrell heir. He started wailing on him before she could get two words out of her mouth.

Ramsay was angry, and when he got angry, he turned bloodthirsty. She knew he had always been bloodthirsty, but this was an all new low. She had no idea what had him angry, but she couldn't let him beat up her family.

She scrambled to get out of the bed, but when her feet hit the floor they refused to hold her up. She crawled towards the fighting men and grabbed Ramsay's arm to stop him. He shrugged her off and continued punching Loras. Undeterred, she crawled up to him again and grabbed his trousers. She pulled herself up and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed.

"Jessa, stop," Loras said.

"No. Ramsay, leave him alone. Please," she said.

"He's trying to tear us apart!" Ramsay yelled. "They're sending me away tomorrow because of him!" He jabbed his finger at Loras. "She is mine, Loras. She will always be mine. I have fucked her in more ways than you can think of and every time she wakes up I'm the one she thinks of. She may be your sister, and a bastard at that, but she's my whore."

Through the buzz, Jessa heard all of it. She dropped her hands and stared up at him. She didn't know why it was a slap in the face, but it left her reeling. She had heard him say that before but it hadn't been in front of someone else.

He saw her face and smiled sadistically. "Did you really think I escorted you here just to let you walk away from me? You are out of your mind." He took her face in his hands, massaging her cheeks gently. "You are nothing but a whore."

Loras stood up and shoved Ramsay away. "Get away from her. She is not your whore and you will not talk to her as such. Get out of Highgarden. Tonight. If I see your face, I will have you executed."

Ramsay looked down at Jessa. She didn't look angry or scared. She looked emotionless and flushed. Without saying a word, she stood on shaky legs and stumbled back to the bed, sinking down into the mattress. She turned her back on him. With a final sneer to Loras, Ramsay walked out the door.

Loras stared at the door for a long moment before turning to the bed. Jessa was still turned away from the door. He sat down beside her and started rubbing her back. She didn't relax but she didn't tense up. He felt the receding welts through the thin material of her nightgown.

"Why did you let him do this to you?" he whispered.

"Just let it go," she answered.

"Jessa, he's gone. You don't have to deal with him anymore. You can get to know Father and convince Grandmother to let you stay here. This is your family."

Jessa pulled the blankets over her body, making certain there was an even bigger barrier between them. She didn't want to be touched or talked to right now.

She laid there until she heard Loras leave. She rolled over and stared at the canopy above her head. She was where she wanted to be but wasn't sure if she wanted to stay. Olenna Tyrell didn't want her around and Mace Tyrell was so stuck up his daughter's butt that he didn't realize she was here to meet him. The only person who had showed her an inkling of humanity was Loras. Maybe she should head back to Winterfell.

Winterfell may be a run down, burnt out shell of what it used to be, but it had been warm and comforting. She had felt at home there, even without the beating and sex. She had loved going into the Wolfswood and sitting there without a care in the world. Connor would run all over the place, barking and howling like he had lost his mind.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she fell into sleep.

* * *

><p>Jessa was quiet as she let Olenna talk. After a week of running a fever, she finally felt well enough to walk around the palace and its grounds. She spent most of her time in one of the courtyards under a huge tree. She always had a book on hand so she had something to do.<p>

Olenna had ignored her since she had been carried from the Great Hall. She didn't really care what the woman thought. Olenna could ignore her for the rest of her life for all she cared. Mace hadn't done a damn thing to get to know her, making it seem like he didn't care at all.

Margeary had come home for a brief visit and Loras had introduced them. Margeary had seemed nice but she had swept through the room to talk to her grandmother about her upcoming wedding. What woman could be married three times in a year? She was a little stuck up too and Jessa didn't want to be associated with that.

She sat against the wall in the courtyard and stared at nothing. Olenna was talking to the gardener as he pruned the flowers. For the first time in a long time, she knew why her last name was Flowers. Everyone associated with the Tyrells loved nature and flowers. It was perfect for Jessa. She had always loved being outside.

"Child, what do you think?" Olenna asked. Loras and the gardener turned towards her. "Should we go with pink flowers or white ones?"

"I don't think it matters," she said before she could think better of it. "Flowers are flowers. They look good no matter what color they are. Besides if you put anymore white flowers around, you blind everyone more than you already do with your white wash walls."

Olenna looked at her in shock as Loras covered his laugh with his hands. "Dear me, you have an opinion for someone who has no family."

"Grandmother!" Loras exclaimed. "You can't talk to her like that. She is your grandchild."

"She is no grandchild of mine. I sent the bastard away hoping to never see her. Now she's here and I don't know what to do. It's better if she disappeared."

Jessa got the message loud and clear. She stood and dusted off her dress from Meereen. She had decided to wear it because she had been tired of wearing thick skirts.

"I am tired of being the brunt of your jokes," she said. "I know I was walking into a lions' den when I came here, but I didn't think it would be like this. I have come through hell and high water to make it here and I'll be damned if I take anymore from you."

"What are you going to do? Go back to Winterfell?"

"Yes. And I'm changing my surname. I'd rather be a Snow than a Flowers if this is how you treat your bastards. I'll be out of your hair tonight."

"If you leave, don't ever come back asking us for help."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Jessa stormed away, slamming gates as she went. She had been insulted only once in her life and that had been at Winterfell. She was really tired of putting herself out there only to be knocked down ten steps. She didn't want or need a family who was going to hold it over her head that she was a bastard.

She made it to her room without falling over. She grabbed her trunk and started throwing clothing in it. She stared at the case long enough to decide whether or not she wanted to carry it with her. Ixnaying the thought, she grabbed a cloth bag and threw the dresses into it instead.

She wanted to scream when there was a knock at the door. Ignoring it, she continued to pack whatever she could fit into the bag. The door opened and closed quietly.

"What are you doing?" Loras asked.

"I'm going home," she said. She grabbed her brush and couple of odds and ends she had brought and shoved them into the bag.

"You can stay here. We'll get you a house away from the castle and you can live here in peace. Grandmother will never know you're here."

"I don't want to stay where I'm not wanted."

"At least let me give you some money for the travel."

"No."

"Jessa!"

She turned around and stared at him. "I don't want anything from you or your family."

Loras stared at her. She turned away from him to finish packing and to grab her cloak. He followed her when she left the room and headed downstairs towards the stables. Her horse was still here so she was going to have it saddled and leave. He knew she was going to be leaving tonight and he had no control over it.

He watched as the stable hands readied the horse. Jessa talked amicably to him but was obviously ready to get out of Highgarden. Finally the stable hand brought the horse out to her.

"Wait," he said as the stable hand was helping her on the horse. He pulled a coin purse from his pocket. "Take this. I know you don't want to take anything from me or my family, but take it. It's a gift. Send a raven when you get to Winterfell. Let me know you got there safely."

Jessa stared down at Loras. He was being nice to her like he always had been. She leaned down and kissed his forehead as she accepted the coin purse. She didn't say anything, instead nodding before she kicked the horse into motion.


	11. Chapter 11

Ramsay tipped up the bottle of wine and guzzled what remained. For two weeks he had been drowning his anger in wine and women. He had used Myranda until he was tired of her, taking her wherever he pleased. Violet and Bess had been next. When he was tire of them, he had systematically made his way down his list of women.

He had taken to torturing one of his father's prisoners for fun. He had always kept Reek right beside him. Not because he wanted to torture the poor man, but because he had him bring wine. He had made sure he was drunk when he did everything so he wouldn't think about it. His father hadn't said a word.

He had tried to get over what the Tyrells had done to him but he hadn't. He was still on edge from losing his favorite plaything. He wanted to go back to Highgarden and take his anger out on everyone who had forced him out. No one had forced him out of anything since he had been a teenager. At that age he was already flaying animals. Why would humans be any less? He was the Bastard of Bolton after all who had his own way of doing things.

Jessa. That was all he could think about. Something about her angered him and made him want to control everything she did. He wanted to grab her hair and fuck her senseless as a way to take his anger out on her. He shouldn't be angry at her, and for once he wasn't. She had been sick when he had left her and no one had been willing to let him take her back to Winterfell. He had lost his temper and taken it out on her. She had to hate him.

He stared at the canopy as he tipped the bottle once again. When he realized it was empty, he tossed it against the wall. The door opened as soon as it smashed against it.

"Get out!" he slurred.

"Is that any way to the person who rode a week to get back here?"

Ramsay had to blink a couple of times before his vision cleared. Jessa couldn't be standing in front of him. She was back in Highgarden with her family, getting to know them even though they didn't want her to. She was doing something she wanted to do for years.

Then why was she standing at the end of his bed? Why was he hallucinating? He stared at the busted bottle against the floor. Maybe he had had way too much. Maybe his thoughts had come to life to torture him.

His illusion walked to the bed and sat down. She shouldn't be able to sit on his bed considering she wasn't real. He was still trashed so he had no idea what was spilling out of his mouth.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked. "Aren't you supposed to be with your new family?"

"Olenna made it very clear that she wasn't going to accept a bastard in her family. Then she asked me what I thought of her damned flowers and I told her she could basically go fuck herself," she replied, hiding a laugh behind her hand.

He didn't find that funny because he had told her the same thing when he left. "Why are you here?"

He watched her lick her lips, unsure if it was sexual or just a nervous habit. His brain wasn't functioning enough to figure it out. "I told Loras that I didn't want to have anything to do with his family. I also told him I was going to change my surname. To Snow."

That made him sit up. "You weren't born in the north. You weren't even born in Westeros."

Jessa sighed as she realized how wasted he was. He wasn't going to understand any of this. `I know, but I want to do it anyway. I'm not going back to Essos unless it is to get my mom."

Ramsay didn't care that she wanted to change her name. He didn't care that he had spent two weeks being irritated and drunk and malicious to whomever he chose. He didn't care that he screwed so many women he had lost count. He didn't care about anything in the past.

He grabbed Jessa so hard he knew she was going to have bruises on her wrists. He pulled her over him and shoved her head into one of his pillows. He stared down at her, still not really believing she was here. Then he pressed to his mouth to her in a hungry kiss. Myranda, Violet, and whatever woman he had chosen to share his bed with that night had barely satisfied him.

He gathered her gossamer skirt in his hands and bunched it up until he could feel her legs. Jessa sat up and started kissing his neck. Ramsay closed his eyes briefly as he started to undo her lacing. She helped him help her slip out of it and her small clothes. She watched as he took her in with his drunken stare. It seemed to clear as he stared at her.

Something in that bloodshot, drunken gaze told her he was relieved to have her back. Even if he was angry all the time and enjoyed causing people pain, he was relieved to have someone who didn't fight him or cause him too much trouble to be back at Winterfell. If she was going to have this life –this life of constant beatings and angry sex- she might as well be a Snow.

Since she had come to Westeros she had nothing but constant abuse. But in the middle of that abuse she had found out how much she could handle. Ramsay had been a sadistic bastard, using her for sport with his other whores even if he said he didn't. She had been beaten more times than she could count and had been used for raunchy sex. And miraculously none of that bothered her, not really. She knew she could handle it all and still fight her way through it. Maybe Ramsay was right. Maybe she was a whore, only she didn't ask for money.

Taking the initiative, she straddled Ramsay's bent knees. He was shocked because she had never done anything like this before. Usually he had her tied up to the bedpost and had already taken something to her, leaving bruises along her shoulders and sides. But tonight he was too drunk to even consider all of that. She figured he'd had have at least four bottles of wine before looking like this. She had seen him drink two bottles and still have enough strength to do stupid shit.

Ramsay forced himself to focus as he stared up at Jessa. She took his face in his hands gently. He briefly wondered what she was going to do when she started rubbing his cheeks.

"Did you come back here for me?" he asked, slurring the last bit of the question.

He was disappointed when she shook her head. "No, I really didn't. I came back because even through all the shit you've put me through, I feel like this place is my home. Your father took me in without an angry word and treated me like he treats you. Well, without the angry words."

Ramsay gripped her hair and tipped her head back so he could have better access to her neck. He nibbled at her throat, tasting the sweat on her skin. She must have ridden all day to get back to Winterfell.

"Undo my lacings," he ordered, sounding clearer than he had when she had walked in. "Undo my lacings and take my trousers off."

Smiling slightly at his already commanding tone, Jessa did as he said. She lifted up enough so he could slid everything off before settling down once again on his now outstretched knees. His hands were everywhere, relearning every inch of her. It had only been a week but he felt as if he had lost everything.

His mouth followed his hands on the front of her body, taking in everything he could reach. She ran her hands through his hair as she calmly let him do whatever he wanted.

"Put my cock inside you," he said.

She stopped at that. "I don't know how."

He took her hand in his and led it to his raging hard on. He urged her up higher as he wrapped her hand around him. When she had a firm grip, he led them to her center. Then he pulled her down gently, hissing as his head disappeared from view.

Jessa felt the new kind of torture slid through her as he took his time to take her. She felt full when he was enclosed inside her. He urged her hips up, inhaling deeply when they came down on her. He latched onto her collarbone as he helped her ride him.

They started to sweat in the heat of the fire and that sweat mixed. Ramsay pulled his knees to him and body slammed her back into the mattress. He was reverting back into his old ways and it felt great. He knew Jessa could take it because she had for weeks before going to Highgarden.

His body was on autopilot as he thrust home again and again and again. Jessa wrapped a curtain in one hand and gripped the headboard with the other. She used them as leverage to meet him stroke for stroke. He grabbed her head and kissed her as he slammed in again. It was the first time he had ever done it and it heightened his senses. He could feel every fiber rubbing against her, feel every hair on his body standing on end.

But he didn't want to end it that way. He pulled out enough to roll her onto her belly. He took her hands in his as he arched his back on his next thrust. His body was burning with the need to let go, but he wanted to make sure she knew she was his.

He felt the rippling before he heard her groan. She was close and he wanted to heighten it as much as he could. Using every ounce of power he could muster, he drove himself the deepest he had ever gone. Seconds later she buried her face in the pillow as her breath shuddered out and her body gripped his. The tightness around his cock was too much and he came with a muttered curse.

Jessa fell to her belly to catch her breath as Ramsay fell to his side. She turned to look at him. He pulled her to him and held her. He had only been this gentle with her once and that had been when she was sick.

"Myranda isn't going to be happy about this," she said.

Ramsay waved a hand dismissively. "She hasn't been happy for a long time. She still wants to hunt you."

She rolled over on to her belly and looked down at him. "I'm going to stay at Winterfell, but I'm not your whore. That falls to Myranda. I'm also not going to be someone you beat all the time. I've been through that already with you and I won't do it again. I will take your gelding knife to your cock before you do that."

He stared at her wide eyed, shocked that she had developed a dirty mouth. "Are we making deals now? You lost the last one."

"I'm amending it. I told you I would come back if they didn't want me. The only one who did was Loras, but I couldn't stay knowing what they felt about me. Now I'm back at Winterfell, like I promised. But you will not lay your hands on me in anger. I'm not going to stand for it anymore."

He rolled over. "What about this?" He dipped his fingers into her, wiggling them about to get his point across.

"You should already know about that, but I will not be your whore. If I say no, you will find someone else. I am a free person here, not a slave."

Ramsay smiled, not minding that she was being demanding. It was one of the things he liked about her. He rolled to his side and kissed her. "I think I can make that work, Miss Snow."

_Dearest Loras, _

_Sorry it's been a couple of weeks. The journey was long and tiring. I made it to Winterfell without any incidents. I did as you suggested a few weeks ago and told Ramsay what I wasn't going to stand for. He seemed to take it well, but he still has the reputation as a sadistic ass. I guess we'll see how that goes. _

_Thank you for the money you gave me. I have booked passage for my mother to come back to Westeros. I will send word to the Khalessi and see if she can get my mother free from House Dhazak. Hopefully she will send my mother on the ship back to Westeros. I can't wait to see her. _

_I love living in the north, even though it's colder than Highgarden and Meereen. I'm going to make new dresses for Winterfell but they will be in the Meereen style. I hope you can come to visit. I know I've been going as Jessa Snow but I was born a Flowers. You're the only person I count as family. I'm sure the Boltons wouldn't mind giving you a room. _

_Write me soon. _

_Yours always,_

_Jessa_


End file.
